Inside and out.

I wore makeup yesterday to work. I spent about 15 minutes doing it so it didn't feel like I was dragging myself to work again. My coworkers were elated, and continued to compliment me through the night; I had customers tell me I was gorgeous. For a while there I felt pretty, I felt like a normal pretty and happy girl. But deep down I still loathed myself. 
I tried to tell the agressive voice in my head to calm down. Take the night off from being so hostel. Let me feel pretty, inside and out.
But the enraged voice screamed back to me, that it never takes a night off, it will always be there listening and judging my every move and every detail about my day, I think I look pretty now but later when I'm trying to sleep It will make me overthink every move and decision I've made in the last 4 years.
People say that I'm a sweetheart, and honestly I'm a very kind and generous person. I'm happy and bubbly. 
But on the inside it's darkness and empty feeling. A void of sadness that I fall into occasionally. The urge to want to stay in bed for weeks on end and not have any human interaction. 
this is coming from the same person who also loves hugs but despises when people touch my hands due to my insecurity of my hands feeling like "alligator skin" from eczema.
I can not fathom how I can feel these two extremes. How I'm warm, inviting, have a loud laugh and love the color yellow on the outside. How I'm lonely, depressed, and never want to get out of bed or shower on the inside. 
Why can't I be the same inside and out?
Why can't I be happy inside and out?
I'm suddenly understanding the concept of the story that Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint; he wanted to be happy on the inside but it was a risk. He wanted to be happy inside and out, no matter the risk, it could've resulted in his death and yet he did it anyway.
He'd kill to be happy inside and out, even if he ended killing himself.