Keeping afloat

Sometimes I find myself unable to stop sharing things I probably shouldn't be. Things about myself that are unsightly and unbecoming; at least as others might see it. It feels completely compulsive, and I can't stop. I've spent many sleepless nights considering this; why do I have to share these things that people might find shameful? Why do I need to make such a poor case for my own propriety? Why do I need to set myself up for failure when I know how to find success?

I think it comes down to my own anxieties and my ability to value myself as I am. I'm stoic in my dedication to uplifting myself, and nourishing the parts of me that are beneficial to others… but no matter how strong the stance I hold, the cracks always form, starting from the top and making their way all tge way down to my soles. Maybe it's not okay to be the way I am. Maybe I am unlovable. Maybe I am too problematic to be a friend or a lover. Maybe I am too difficult.

I think this act of verbal self-disacreditation is an attempt for me to find outside reinforcement of my own value. I want to be accepted, even at my most unclean and unwell. If people who don't know me and the good I do for others are able to find value in the person I am, then maybe it's okay to be the way that I am in the moment. If they find value, in my spew of disconnected verbal expressions and in my crude, childish markings, then maybe I have value! Maybe Noah is worth something! Maybe I can keep believing too!

A hug from a stranger who knows little of me often seems more valuable than that from one I love dearly, not because I hold little value in those I'm closest to, but because those I know to a lesser extent don't owe me a thing. I haven't done them any favors nor have I cared for them in their times of need. I am a stranger, and to strangers you owe no acceptance. When gifted to a stranger, acceptance is a tithing and a blessing in one simple act.

I hope this isn't sick; I love knowing new people, I love being seen, and I love being accepted for who I am. Thank you to all those that have told me I'm okay as I am; it keeps me afloat.