Too Much

This past Thursday (April 21st), I believed I looked gorgeous. Normally, I believe the outfits I curate around our uniformed shirts are nice, but for once in a very long time, I believed I looked nice in the dry, acne-scarred, hairy skin I’m in.

For a couple of hours, I took that joy and ran with it because it felt good to appreciate my beauty.

Though the joy kind of lasted throughout the day, it was masked by complete and utter self-hatred for who I am on the inside.

I received some unpleasant news at work, and my brain completely spiralled.

I was suddenly reminded of everyone who’s left me and why I have an intense love/hate relationship with letting people into my life. All these thoughts of me being an emotional mess and becoming overbearing the minute I find a connection with someone began to flood my brain. The guilt I had been trying so hard not to feel about the demise of certain relationships began resurfacing, and it took all of the mental strength I could muster not to blame who I am/who I’m becoming for the way relationships have panned out.

Overthinking is my middle name, and after the initial floodgates were opened, all I could seem to do was overthink and cry (of course). My recent marathon of apologizing for menial things and swearing loudly around people who could fire me began racing through my brain; then I remembered how much and how many people strongly dislike how much I apologize, which made me cry and want to apologize even more.

Towards the end of the day, some people pointed out how my eyes were slightly swollen from the tears, and all I could think about was how I am too much.

I am too much.

When I talk about how I view myself as I continue this intense mental health journey, people always make it a point to say “You are enough.” I know I’m enough; the problem is I’m more than enough.

Again, I’m too much.

I went from barely opening my mouth and consistently having to repeat myself to unintentionally talking loudly, which seems to be a lot worse when I have an earbud in. I went from close-lipped smiles to big grins and loud laughs. I went from dressing for the sake of blending in to wearing interesting combinations & pieces that somehow manage to showcase who I am.

I’ve always dreamed of coming out of my shell, but now that I’m out, I want to go back in. I want to fade and not let people see all the weird and good crazy that lies within me.

Sometimes, especially nowadays, I think about how I went from being not enough to too much.

I know this is a part of the journey to finding myself and healing all the mental torture I’m used to, but I hate the days where I let my emotions get out of control. One friend, an incredibly honest and lovable individual, called me out for being an emotional mess, and since then, I’ve really worked at concealing the waterworks.

The dam broke on Thursday, and it took everything in me to convince myself that I did not fail, that I have to keep living because there’s a beautiful reason for my continued existence. Sometimes it’s hard to accept the fact that I do still exist, especially on days like Thursday where it seemed like fading away would make everything better for everyone.

There are three (technically four) words my therapist said to me, and it has become my saving grace, “Progress isn’t linear.” I’m not a fan of the way Thursday panned out, but those few words remind me that this is just a temporary low; life is full of them.

For right now, I am just so tired of fighting the part of me that wants all authentic parts of Jamilah to be free and loud and confident and sexy.

I am so tired of feeling like I’m too much.

about the author

Jamilah is a college graduate in her early twenties who wants to live and learn and love herself while fighting the anxiety fight.

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