I hadn’t had an honest to god panic attack in about a month, which was really good for me, actually. I’d had anxiety spikes but not the whole heart pounding, on the verge of crying, oh-my-god-i’m-going-to-die-i’m-a-bad-person-everyone-hates-me-i’d-rather-you-hit-me-why-won’t-you-just-hit-me-i-can’t-take-it-anymore kind of panic.
The good news is that it’s over now and I’m not terrified of everything and I think I’ve identified a new trigger so. Good for me, I guess.
So my therapist said something to me a while back and I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I just want to get it out there. I dunno if it’s gonna help, but here goes.
I’m a people pleaser. I’m not really as “if they don’t like me, fuck ‘em” as I try to portray. It’s been one of those “fake it till you make it” kind of things and honestly it’s not really working. But my therapist said to me “why are you willing to let yourself burn in order for other people to accept you when it’s not even you they’re accepting?” and I’ve been thinking. Honestly, I just really want people to like me. I’m very good at hiding. It’s been a pretty consistent pattern in my life that adults didn’t want to see the parts of little Rose that they didn’t like. Little Rose had panic attacks and no adults were capable of understanding why or what was going on so I’d get punished for it. Little Rose was a crier and was made fun of for it or told just not to do it. Little Rose was not taken seriously when she told adults about her troubling mental health issues. Hell, adult Rose was not taken seriously about her mental health issues until it got to the point that denying it was impossible, what with the daily panic attacks and very clear to see break and all. So I guess I’ve been trained, in a way, to shut up, suck it up, and present a good face because people like a good face. People like a “I do what I want” attitude. They like a smart girl. They like a pleasant and happy person. So I shut up and smile and don’t argue or assert boundaries. Because if I do…
I loved someone once. I planned on marrying him, actually. He was abusive, but he never hit me so I wasn’t aware that what I was going through was really abuse at the time. If I was good and what he wanted, we didn’t fight. If I wasn’t what he wanted there was something wrong with me and he’d withdraw any and all affection at best, sulk and punch holes through the walls or sharpen his knives, maybe yell if he was really pissed off. And that wasn’t even the worst of it. So I shut up. The last time I finally asserted myself, the last time I was tired of it, he called me a manipulative bitch and fucked off for good. My father was similar. Say the wrong thing when he was drinking and it was a war until he would fuck off and come back expecting an apology but never giving one. So the message has been clear all my life: be what other people want you to be or they will hurt you and then they will leave you; you are not your own person, you are what other people need you to be so be that or they’ll find someone else.
I just want people to like me. I just want to be loved, really. But dammit if I don’t want to be loved on my own fucking terms. I’m so tired of pretending that I’m not just as capable of being a cruel, viscous bitch as anyone else. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to scream and cry and break things when I’m pissed off and hurt. I’m tired of feeling like I have to meet some impossible standard I know I can’t actually meet in order for people to like me. I’m tired of my brain telling me that no one really likes me. I’m tired of caring about what other people think of me. I’m tired of needing it. I’m tired of just not being good enough.
I don’t have anything to wrap this up with. Here’s my own little personal wank storm for the evening. I have no where else to go with this honestly. I’m just pissed off and done.
Forgive me, it’s 4 am and I am having thoughts.
Sometimes I worry about what to post around here. I miss college a lot. I miss writing essays and ripping apart media, looking for meaning and finding patterns in things. I loved it so much, even if I drove myself a little crazy sometimes. I don’t think I was ever prouder of myself than when I got an A on my King Lear paper, where I discussed the feminization of Lear and fits of emotion as important to our growth as people. I worked my ass off on that paper for months and the prof was a tough grader, so it was a big accomplishment for me. But that’s the kind of thing I did. That’s the kind of thing I loved. Re-examination of a whole text because of one word (in Lear It was “hysteria”, I believe). Call it over thinking if you want, but it was fun for me.
I’ve been struggling of a long time. Mentally, I haven’t been able to wrap my head around undertaking something like that in about two years. It’s just an essay, but my last semester of college gave me daily panic attacks over simple assignments (I dropped everything but one 100 level Music Appreciation course and it was still a nightmare for me.) I miss sinking my teeth in and trying. I miss feeling smart. I miss proving a point.
And I still struggle. I want to write analysis. I want to play again, but I’m so much of a people pleaser that I second guess it all the time. “Your followers don’t want to see it” “Your followers don’t care” “What’s the point anyway” and I just… I need to stop looking for permission is what I need to do. I need to stop giving a shit what people thing. It’s my blog dammit! I can do what I want! And yet I wind myself up so much that I remain frozen and nothing happens.
I have no idea where I’m going with this. It’s 4 am. But my therapist says I need to get used to “sharing my thoughts” b/c I don’t talk to people and I sure as hell am not going to vent on freaking Facebook or Twitter. So like, this is what you get. You get me, Rose, flip flipping and flailing and making no coherent sense.
I’m frustrated. I’m understimulated, intellectually. I keep myself in a box. I hide because I dont want pity (which I often confuse genuine concern for). I worry about what other people think. I dont voice my opinions because I dont want other people to dislike me but logically I know I can’t please everyone.
So I dont know what to post around here. I have thoughts and I think a lot and it never goes anywhere. I ramble. I circle the drain.
Clings to you Is there anything i can do to help
Thanks. Not really. I just need to mellow out, I think. Let myself have a while to not do anything.
Anxiety is kicking my ass today.
And a certain asshole needs to stop fucking yelling at everything or I’m going to cry and/or scream and/or hide under the desk.
This is Not a Blog 