Diary of a Happy Goth

I’ve been using a journal prompt randomiser lately to see what feelings need to come up for me, and today’s question was ‘when was the last time you felt shame.’ Shame is an emotion I’ve found has acted as a looming cloud above me as I’ve worked to get better, and although I’m so proud of the progress I’ve been making compared to the place I was in last month, I’m struggling to beat that feeling. 

I wanted to understand the difference between shame and embarrassment first, and shame seems to be much more intense and complicated, which I resonate more with. I rarely feel embarrassed, if I get something wrong or do something silly I have the self-esteem and support system to laugh it off and not let it bother me. Shame takes a more significant meaning and stems from the belief that you are flawed, unworthy or have failed to live up to a social or personal standard. 

My personal standard is that I am the positive, happy friend that brings the vibes at all times. I have a high-vibrational, loving and social reputation to uphold. This is obviously all self-inflicted and upheld by me, nobody else cares if I’m not on my high vibe on a particular day. But I do. I care a lot. During April and May, I was struggling so much that it was physically impossible for me to uphold this personal standard, I’d already burnt out all my energy getting up and ready for the function. 

Now that I’m in a much better place and able to look at those two months retrospectively, I’m struggling to fully find compassion for myself because I still feel that shame. My greatest shame was that I allowed such a desperate, messy and miserable version of myself to be shown to the world through behaviour that was not a reflection of who I am but the awful state I was in. I’m ashamed that I was so public with my unconcealable struggle; I kept going out, drinking for the wrong reasons which made my public self-destruction worse, and attending all the functions. 

Why couldn’t I just be normal and shut myself away, become isolated and closed-off? Instead I made it obvious, out there. I was seeing people and they were seeing me. I had an incredibly helpful conversation with a person I met and became friends with during this period of my life, and she told me it was clear that I was going through something, which was so reassuring because it means my subconscious cries for help were seen.

I made quite a few new friends during this period, including the girls at my job which I started in March, so I was still a newbie when I began struggling. It’s shameful but also concerning for me that all these amazing people were introduced to this version of myself, and that, for a time, they would have thought that was genuinely me. I’m lucky to say not a single one of these people have left and they’ve shown constant compassion and support, which is not only testament to their huge hearts, but the real version of myself that was lingering under the pain, desperate to be freed. For the most part, I have always managed to attract emotionally intelligent and endlessly loving people. 

I don’t want this shame to consume me because I am not to blame, and I deserve to feel compassion and love for that version of myself that was so lost and desperately struggling. Pushing through it involves doing the work to grow from that place and proving to myself it is possible. I’m proud to say it’s been around a month since the days when I’d wake up in tears, skip uni and spend ages getting ready for events, not for myself but to impress others (which would unravel anyway because I’d end the night drunk crying into anyone’s arms who would listen). I’m ready to stop apologising and start living.