other people > me

I think I finally understand what my therapist means when she says to “sit with an emotion,” and then “let it go.” I have a tendency to fester. I let all these emotions surround and suffocate me because i’m waiting for some due punishment to complete my crime of being me. it’s why I spent so many years so ready to hear criticism and hear how I was wrong in (enter reason here) but so uncomfortable to hear any compliments. ‘they’re being nice, they feel bad for me,’ ‘they’re lying to make me feel better,’ ‘i’m that poor dirty kid in the corner that parents drag their kids to befriend.’

so today: I felt angry. more frustrated than anything but the root: angry. I had spent the past month working time off the clock, at home, volunteering on weekends, counseling a close married couple, setting a boundary with an alcoholic friend, trying not to burst when a room discussed how I’d be a good mother, losing vital time for key initiatives to put out the same daily fire, writing writing writing and writing some more for people I didn’t even know, volunteering again, a march here and another march there, watching my sweet nephews, having difficult conversations twice and nearly three times a week, trying to keep moving/moving/moving - have to keep moving, don’t stop! don’t let those emotions catch up.

and then, not done yet! an actual fire here, a bug issue there, more counseling for this other friend and faux therapy for that friend and those employees and wait, let me help take care of that and find a way down south to do this and wait, I forgot to water this plant!

it’s been so so much and i’m proud of how i’ve been able to wind down each night, decompress, breathe, stretch, breathe again.

and today: oh, thank goodness today happened when i’m in a much better place.

I felt a type of way: could have felt more angry or hostile, could have pointed fingers or rolled my eyes, could have stayed home and cried into my pillow, could have dumped my piles of pills and blended with my smoothie du jour (goodbye, cruel world.).

but the world didn’t end. and i’m still here. and the difficult things were difficult but darn it, they were done and i’m ready for the next challenge.

decided to watch one of my comfort shows: hoarders - buried alive. (i’ve learned I like this one over that other one - this one they do therapy sessions, provide weeks for the subject to work on their own terms) I used to feel shame about this: getting entertainment from the pain of others? but I also recently started shrugging away the judgement of others in that I simply don’t care if people think it makes me bad or weird or wrong. I know me. I know my heart. And I know traumatized people who have learned to cope through a way of self-harm and OCD is more relatable to me than some romcom or real housewife or some hockey dudes making out. I hear their stories and I have swear-to-god clutched my heart.

It is so, so much easier for me to feel this compassion and sense of understanding and empathy for others than for myself. I recognize each person: that sadness behind their eyes and the longterm disassociation that blinds them from the pile of pain behind them. I see their impulse buys they brought home in a moment of distraction from their disconnect from the life they’ve become accustomed to. I hear their stories of loss or abuse or rape or neglect and I nod my head along like yup, been there, friend.

and in the end - it makes me feel less alone.

because even surrounded by people and having a nice brunch or drink or crafting hour I always feel that same sense of disassociation. why isn’t this easier for me? why am I so worried about every moment this person or people spend near me? why do I feel at any second they’ll discover i’m worthless and embarrassing and want to leave? can they leave now? can I leave before they leave to not make them feel bad for leaving? do I stay and not make them feel like i’m leaving because I don’t want to be around them? do I leave to cut their agony short?

to connect these dozens of little dots: I was watching hoarders, and an episode with a mom and a daughter gave me that familiar tightness in my shoulders. the daughter was maybe 15, 16? and during one counseling session the daughter barely looked behind long bangs at the therapist to answer a question about how she was feeling. she admitted that it was challenging to find the motivation to clean when she felt as if her mom consistently but the full blame for the state of the home on her. and the look from the mom, ah! ‘looked could kill.’ She immediately snapped back at the daughter accusing he of lying and added a last comment that it was mostly the daughter.

and when the grandfather spoke the mother softened. took his hand, listened to his words, calmly accepted the help. I couldn’t help but notice the daughter at the other side - still shrinking into her chair with shoulders hunched and staring intently at her knees. the episode continued pretty similarly where the daughter’s only affirmations came from the therapist and organizer while the mother looked coldly on.

and that’s not say my only thought was that the mother was some villain and cold, deplorable abuser. (although my sister recently told me one of the first things cps will look into with neglect is dental care. apparently that’s quite common to be skipped in unstable households.) I thought: how sad that this woman has so much pain in her heart that she takes it out on her daughter. how tragic to have all this unprocessed trauma and emotions that the easiest target is the person who likely means the world to you. I hope since that the mother has found healing - the daughter, too.

but in watching I had one of those, aha moments.

My people pleasing I’ve learned can be called fawning, a trauma response and learned survival coping mechanism. It had become such a part of my daily life that I hadn’t realized I wasn’t even doing it until someone called me out for once. At first I was offended and for a long time, continued to be. Is being nice people pleasing? What if I genuinely just want to help others?

but through all my self work it finally clicked that the concern was stemmed in how I would let people abuse this habit of mine. i’m still learning and unpacking but I am actively trying to remind myself that my thoughts and feelings matter, too. That just because I like musical theatre doesn’t mean I’m corny. That just because I seldomly swear doesn’t make me a goodie two shoes. that just because I have a tendency to ramble doesn’t make me stupid. that just because I believe the good in others doesn’t make me foolish. and so what if I don’t understand a lot of internet lingo? and why does it matter if i’ve let very few people see me completely and physically exposed? My journey is my journey and whether i’m 25 or 35 or 75 it doesn’t matter because i’m not in a race. i’m here for my own personal best. and maybe that’s why I like running? to go at your own pace, to enjoy the experience, to cheer others on as they breeze past you or you wave as you pass them.

i’m done letting others dictate how I feel about myself. I can admit that I have my faults and have made mistakes but I’m doing my best here and aren’t we all?

I still want to do what I can to help others. I just talked to a friend today where they thanked me for staying behind to help them on something that I didn’t need to. I laughed it off with them when expressing, what else was I going to do? see you needed help and just walked away and wish you good luck? So in some ways I don’t anticipate I’ll ever change. I smile and greet the birds I pass by (hi pigeon!), I take pictures of the flowers growing from concrete, I look directly in people’s eyes and smile to try and make them feel safe, I ask questions about people’s special interests I know nothing about, I believe the best in people to a darn near fault, I put the grocery cart back and check yes that i’m using a store bag.

but I can’t let others decide who I am for me. and i’ll pay attention the next time I shrink and cram myself in a corner to give myself a foot to give others three. i’ll ask myself why and be okay stepping up to the counter to order my coffee instead of waiting for them to call me over. and boy do I still have a mountain to climb- the most difficult thing has been me preventing any relationships from growing because I so quickly want to abandon myself before they abandon me. and dang it, I might even get a selfie the next time with friends. I realized recently all my pictures are of things and nature and myself because i’ve always felt people wouldn't want evidence they spent time with me or make them feel awkward by saying no.

and i’ll continue to grow and continue to make mistakes and continue to ponder and think aimlessly about whether trees have spirits and whether birds are reincarnated people. my brain is the only I got. and i’m tired of trying to mold it to satisfy someone else because it’s impossible to make everyone happy. but i’ll apologize when I do wrong; or hope they tell me if I don’t realize so I can discuss it or apologize or whatever it may be.

and i’m just so, so tired. and if I continue this journey and realize that I was right all along; that i’m unlovable and worthless and a mistake and destined to die alone? so be it. at least I can become compost and hopefully grow some tall, beautiful tree.