A Grave Reality.

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself
And covered with a perfect shell
Such a charming, beautiful exterior
Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes
Perfect posture, but you're barely scraping by
But you're barely scraping by

This is one time, this is one time
That you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone
Or anyone at all...or anyone at all
And the grave that you refuse to leave
The refuge that you've built to flee,
The places that you've come to fear the most,
Is the place that you have come to fear the most.

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself
And hidden in the public eye
Such a stellar monument to loneliness
Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes
Perfect make-up, but you're barely scraping by
But you're barely scraping by...

Well this is one time, well this is one time
That you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone
Or anyone at all...or anyone at all
And the grave that you refuse to leave
The refuge that you've built to flee,
The places that you've come to fear the most,
Is the place that you have come to fear the most.

And you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone
Or anyone at all..or anyone at all
And the grave that you refuse to leave
The refuge that you've built to flee,
The places that you've come to fear the most,
Is the place that you've come to fear the most,
Is the place that you have come to fear the most.
 -The Places That You've Come to Fear the Most by Dashboard Confessional.

The first time I heard this song I was a sophomore in college. My friend Johnny was trying to get the chords right on his guitar. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember thinking how absurd it was that this guy (the songwriter, not my friend) knew exactly how I felt...how I've felt my entire life. That was ten years ago, and it's still the story of my life.

Let's take today, for example. I was invited to lunch today with a group of ladies from church. I woke up so anxious I felt sick. I worried about what I was going to wear, how I would do my hair and how I was going to do my makeup. I even practiced the makeup the night before. Is that sad or what? I ended up changing everything I had planned. I was going to wear colors and a fun coral shade of Revlon lipglaze...but my mood dictated that I wear something more appropriate to how I felt, or I'd just end up feeling worse. So head to toe black it was, complete with the usual liquid eyeliner and red lips. I always say I feel better when I wear red lipstick...I wish I could say that was the case today. Instead, I panicked so badly I made myself sick to my stomach. Once the group arrived, it was all charm and smiles as usual, and as soon as I left, it was back to feeling terrible.

A charming exterior, a brilliant smile and perfect makeup. It really is a grave. When you build such high walls, no one bothers to look over them to see what's inside, and what's worse, if you tell them, they don't believe you. FYI, comments like "You don't look bipolar" and "You?! You're so normal!" can ruin a person.

I tried. I really did. I didn't want to accept the lunch invitation in the first place, but I did, and I actually showed up. While I'm somewhat proud of myself for that, it was so painful that I don't want to do it ever again. Trying hurts. I want to stay buried. I don't need anyone, I don't want anyone, I'm so much better off alone in my little hole.

When I was little I used to bury myself deep in the blankets and cover my head but just left just enough space to be able to breathe and take a peek around if I wanted to. Part of the reason was because I'm a little claustrophobic and was afraid of suffocating, but the other reason was because while I wanted the blankets to make me feel safe and secure, I still wanted to be able to connect to the outside world if I had to.

If that's not some kind of crazy psychological foreshadowing, I don't know what is. I just want to feel safe and secure, with the world close enough (but not too close), just in case I need it. Somewhere along the way, I began to dig my protective grave. I feel like I'm hanging on to the edge, feet dangling and nose poking out into the world.

I hit the pj's before taking a picture tonight. Sorry. The makeup's not so perfect anymore, and I probably have bags the size of New Guinea under my eyes.