I don’t handle rejection well. I doubt there are very many people who do, but I’m kind of horrifically bad at it. For instance, I found out yesterday that I got wait listed for the program in Chicago that I really want to do next year. Now, I’m well aware that wait listing does not equal rejection. I might still get in. There are three more deadlines for the program and they’ll re-evaluate my application at each deadline. Two months from now, I might get in and all this frustration will have been for naught.
In my mind, I have such a skewed version of myself. So, when I got the e-mail that I was wait listed, the thought that automatically goes through my mind is “They don’t want to get rid of you yet. They’re just really hoping that someone better than you comes along.” I overanalyze everything. My inner voice spends hours every day berating myself. I was never someone who really got punished growing up because my parents pretty much knew they could never do something worse to me than I was already doing to myself.
So, I spent a little while crying hysterically last night. I had a couple glasses of wine and ate chocolate frosting straight from the container while I re-watched the American Horror Story premiere and the horrible sequel to The Amityville Horror. I turned to horror for a couple of reasons. First, I decided I’d rather be scared than sad. Secondly, it brought me comfort to know that these fictional characters were having a worse time than I was. I may or may not have gotten into my dream program, but at least I wasn’t possessed by a demon and murdering my entire family. It really put things into perspective. I decided around 7:30 that I wanted to forget about everything and just go to sleep, so I took a couple allergy pills that I thought would put me to sleep. I figured that those and the wine would knock me out instantly. All it did was make me feel woozy and then I was still awake for another five hours. I couldn’t even make myself unconscious successfully. Just another thing I was failing at.
In the past couple of months, I’ve dealt with a lot of rejection. In fact, all I really see of adult life so far is endlessly being told I’m not good enough. I have no job and no real direction. I’ve always had my shit together. I’m a very goal-oriented person. But now, I have no idea what my goals are. I wake up every day and hope that this will be the day I figure out what my purpose is. From where I’m sitting, all I see myself as right now is a useless waste of space.