Fear and Loathing...Myself

Title too harsh for you? Too raw? 
Too transparent? TMI; too much information? Yeah.  I hear ya.
It makes you want to hand around cliches, like tissues during flu season; "buck up Buttercup" or "it could be worse" or "tomorrow is another day" or  "think positive".  Sigh.  I am guilty of saying all of the above.
Let me sort through this mess I have created here. There are a few things weighing my heart tonight, so much so that I cannot sleep before writing it down. 
People matter, you matter. 
People have value, you have value. 
People have feelings, you have feelings. 
Not every feeling I have is valid. It's sad but true. I have irrational, unsubstantiated feelings. 
I have felt lonely in a crowd.  I have felt slighted on social media.  I have felt ugly looking in a mirror.  I give my emotions too much street cred.
Seriously. As if my emotions grew up on the street and can direct me to the safe neighborhoods to loiter in. "Here you go Trish, I have the perfect pity party for you".  "Psst...Trish, make an abrupt turn on Anger Street".  Funny, yet not funny. 
It has taken me many moons to identify when my emotions are valid or not; decades of moons. This is called maturity. Then an interesting season called menopause plays havoc with your emotions and you can't trust your previous legend on the emotion map.  Yikes! I am lost once more.
This reminds me of my hormonal teenage years.  The years filled with the aforementioned fear and loathing.  Years in which I could not tell anyone of my constant suicidal thoughts. It was the 70s. They locked you away for that stuff.  I coped.  Not always in a healthy way, but I found what worked for me. I created a niche for me that felt normal, that created security for me; that allowed me to be myself.  I just never knew that I was not alone; in my thoughts, in my fear and loathing,
Lately, there have been too many sad stories of suicide victims. I don't know all of the stories, but the few I do break my heart. 
Sometimes we are afraid and we loathe ourselves because someone who matters to us cannot accept us the way we are.  
They need us to be ______.  (You can fill in the blank).  
Perhaps fear of the unknown, and loathing our inadequacies, creates an artificial environment where death seems our only way out.
Maybe we are in thrall to our emotion's street cred and accept every emotional hill and valley as concrete proof that we don't belong here.
There are definitely physical challenges and mental illnesses that can also manufacture an end-game scenario. 
Now what?!  Good point.  
First, be kind.
Be kind to yourself.
Be kind to your kids.
Be kind to your parents.
Be kind to your friends and neighbors.
Be kind to your students/employees/strangers.
Second, make a friend and trust them with who you are.
Friends, listen, really hear.  Accept, love, and walk with them.
Lastly, learn to take an emotional inventory. 
Find a trusted source to hold your emotions up against for evaluation. (Reevaluate as needed).
Compare them to someone mature you look up to.  Someone real.
I know this is barely a drop in the bucket, but I needed to say it.
I love you all; known and unknown.
Ciao for now,
-Trish