By MARYANNE RAFKA, Copy Editor
I’m sad. I’m a sad girl with a lot of feelings and a blog. I like to spend my time eating potato chips and sitting at home cross-legged on my bed with tumblr open on my computer and MSNBC on my T.V., listening to Margot & the Nuclear So and So’s and crying and be sad. And you know what? That’s okay. I am not someone who believes that everyone should be happy all of the time. I am a strong believer in sadness being okay. Sometimes you just need to be sad. Sometimes you need to watch black and white romances with Kate Hepburn and Cary Grant and stuff your face with Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while thinking about the person who made you sad today.
And sometimes you want to be quiet about your sadness. Sometimes, your sadness is like a bubble or a balloon that encapsulates you and you want to rock back and forth and not make a single sound and ignore the world forever. Sometimes you need that quiet.
And sometimes, you want to talk about it. Sometimes, you just want everyone in the entire world to know just how sad you are and what they should do to help you. Or just to listen.
But when I talk to people about my sadness, I always get the same reactions: silence, a quiet, “Aaww,” or a summary of everything I have done wrong and how to fix it.
No. No no no.
I want none of those things.
Sometimes, even if I cry in your arms for an hour and a half straight and then watch an entire Girls marathon in your house while eating all of the food from your fridge, I do not want any of those reactions
I want someone who can look at me and say, “You’re sad. You fucked up and now you’re sad. And guess what? That’s okay. Eat everything. Poop nine times a day. Take three baths. Drink all of this alcohol, but make sure you have a ride home. Call me at three in the morning. Call up your ex. Tell them you miss them. Ignore everyone. Yell at your mother. Be sad. It’s okay to be sad and it’s okay to fuck up. And then, go to sleep and wake up the next morning and live. Even if you’re sad. You have to wake up the next morning and live.”
Really, this is all I want to hear. I want someone to tell me that I’m completely and utterly insane, and that this is okay. That my heart is broken, but that’s okay because breaking a window lets the air in. So maybe this is my time to breathe.
Listen, if you’re sad, I want you to know that this sadness is not everything. It does not consume you. But it’s okay to feel it. Don’t be ashamed of your sadness. You can cry and you can break down and you can not leave your bed for eight days straight. You can write poetry and read sad books and make sock puppets. You can buy a pet and watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind every single day for a week. But then you’re going to wake up, and you’re not going to want to do any of those things. You’re going to want to leave the house. The sad will go away, slowly, until one day you wake up and you’re not sad anymore.
It takes time.
So cry the sad out, pick yourself up off the floor, wear a kick-ass outfit, put on red lipstick (if you want), and walk out of your house. Even if the furthest you get is the front porch, that’s progress. And we’re all very proud of you.