Ugly on the Inside

You know those people who are the best examples of angels but turn out to be the most rotten in the basket? I often think that’s me. I’m pleasant and sweet to almost everyone and I like to think I’m non-judgemental nearly all the time and even welcome the “weird” ones.

except I’m not.

I call people ugly on their faces when I know that’s their biggest insecurity. I like to think I’m a saint but I’m full of shit sometimes. I sit in guilt and remorse for a long time after I press people’s limits until they look visibly hurt.

It’s not like I want to do it you know? I’m not evil of that kind, I only reach for the most painful buttons of people who’ve REALLY hurt me…or disturbed me in a way I feel I’m in a cage and there’s no escape while they dangle the keys in front of my eyes, mocking me. so I hurt them too.

It always goes something like this: I develop preconceived notions about them or expand them over time (usually the bad ones) but I keep it to myself. I foster it. and then it somehow always stays in my subconscious. During an argument or fight, my tongue wobbles to stop me from saying the things my mind is already forcing me to. I know it’ll hurt them to a point they’ll have to stop the conversation, think for a minute, or maybe I had just created an insecurity that didn't exist for them.

I’m not trying to be the victim around this. I know it’s childish and I’ll be horrified if someone splurted all the inimical words I do but I can’t help it. I try to break the cycle and it happens all over again and then I can’t sleep, I can’t breathe than to think how ugly I really am.

I also fear my words will eventually find their way back to me and I’ll be the villain who’ll meet her cursed death. If I call someone ugly today, I will be the one tomorrow. If I shit them on their medical condition, I’ll be diagnosed with an untreatable disease tomorrow. If I call them a failure, I’ll be one in the future. I’m scared of meeting my own karma.

My anger takes possession of me and I hate it.

I’m so so ugly but I can’t stop it.

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Painting: Christina’s World by Andrew Wyeth (1948)