Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
My Own Worst Enemy
Okay. It's been far, far too long.
One night this past week, I was really tired, or so I thought. I tried going to bed early, only to toss and turn for what seemed like hours. I finally turned the light back on, opened up my laptop, and started writing. And after I was done? I fell asleep. So this is something I need to remember about myself. I need to write. Since I was a child, it has been a way for me to collect my thoughts, to make sense of things, to breathe emotionally. To get it out. Sometimes I look back on things I wrote and don't even remember/believe I wrote them. Which, I think, is a good sign because I get into a state of realness when I write. Not censoring myself and worrying about what will sound good later--just kind of letting it all hang out. That's something about myself that, for better or for worse, is obviously here to stay. Somehow, I will express myself, whether it's talking or writing or singing or what have you--and I think that's better than living inside yourself.
Speaking of which, I've been thinking a lot about myself as a person and trying to look at myself objectively. Recently I went through a period of deep, deep depression. I'm not saying it'll never happen again or that I'm completely out of the woods, but sometimes...things get bad for me, worse than I'm willing to admit for fear of sounding whiny or self-absorbed or...whatever. It would take years of therapy to really work this out, I bet, and it's something I've been doing a little research on lately. But there are periods where I will cry every day, where I will feel completely purposeless and sick of everyone and everything, where I wonder if it's worth trying anymore to find someone to love. A lot of factors contribute to this depression--and I'm not going to list them, but it's a big ol' mess inside me, I'm sure.
Anyway, so part of it is that momentous things were happening for me last year at this time, relationship-wise, or so I thought. The whole thing turned out to be a total farce, and now that person is with someone else, which (no matter how strong you are or think you are), fucks with you. You start wondering, "Well, what did I do wrong? Was I really that bad of a person that they couldn't work through it with me? Why her and not me? Why does he get to be happy and not me, when he's the one who was unhappy and ended it to begin with?" etc. etc. etc. until you just have to realize that it probably wasn't your fault. I will never know the reasons behind why it's her and not me, or even if they'll last, but I have to stop thinking it's any of my business. It's just hard when you really, really give yourself to someone emotionally, you really start to care about them and think about being with them in a long-term way, and then suddenly, just like that, it's over. It gives you doubts about whether any of it was real in the first place, and makes you feel stupid for having fallen for any of it. And it didn't make things better that after a month or two of no contact, we started acting like we could just be friends again. Now, I was willing to try this out, and it wasn't one-sided--he'd contact me, I'd contact him, etc. etc. But that was just an ego stroke on his part, to make himself believe he wasn't this awful person who had done something so horrible that we couldn't even talk anymore. I remember during the phone call that ended it, he blurted out, "Can I still call you?" and at the time I should have said no and stuck to it. But you want to believe this person still cares about you, you want to know you're not this hateful person, and a teeny tiny part of you (or a big part, depending on who we're talking about) wants them to suddenly realize how dumb they are for breaking it off, and for them to come back. I'm not saying I'd let this person back in wholly and completely, even right afterward, but at the time I'd have liked to hear "I don't know what I was thinking, this was the wrong decision, I never should have done it" blah blah. And the fact that he was still calling afterward (only after I eventually said he could) made me happy, I'll admit. The fact that he sounded just as lonely and bored as I was--it was validation that maybe he should have tried working through his own issues before abandoning me. But now...there's someone else in the picture and I have nothing substantial going on. That + shitty weather and seasonal depression + one year ago I was really happy + insecurities that have been with me since I was a little girl + not being on medication, which I probably should be by now = yikes. Not a healthy girl.
For a while, I was actually dating a guy I started to get really, really into. I'm not going to get into the specifics of why this also didn't work out, but we went back and forth (no matter how much he would insist that it was 100% my doing, it wasn't) emotionally and physically before the final straw, which was pretty recently. This person was bad for me, and bad in the way that if I asked him right now, he would insist that his being bad for me is somehow my fault. Which is the core of the badness. No matter what, it was always about my issues. Him telling me what I wanted and needed, him suggesting ways I could improve myself when I never asked him for that--I only wanted someone to try and understand, not try and fix. And someone who constantly feels the need to make fun of someone and never compliment her when she is someone he supposedly likes has SERIOUS, SERIOUS ISSUES of his own to work on. I never knew what he was thinking until it was too late to talk about it; instead I'd ask what was going on and just be talked AT, with an overly cerebral pseudo-psychological explanation of bullshit surrounding my issues (ie, "I'm not ever going to tell you you're pretty because you wouldn't believe it anyway" is loosely what I got concerning that issue). I could never, ever get him to open up emotionally, instead it had to be all about me and the fact that I supposedly needed something he could never give me. (Like, I don't know, common courtesy as a woman and just the teeniest, tiniest bit of compassion and sensitivity about my feelings.) As though I was looking for a psychologist, not just someone human who has a heart and will just hold me through all the madness. Someone who will tell me he likes me, plain and simple. Someone who won't get completely defensive when I ask what's going on. Someone who is not trying as hard as he can to push people away and sabotage what could have been a good relationship or at least a good try. I felt...dumped on. I felt belittled. I felt incriminated every time I tried to get below the surface. And after all the false starts, regardless of how serious or casual our relationship was in the end (we were never a couple and by the end I certainly wasn't trying to be one), he ended up saying the most insensitive thing that anyone has probably ever said to me, about something extremely vulnerable, and that's when I knew I had to end it for good. This wasn't that long ago, and although it's been hard to let go of it because I really did like certain things about him, every time I get so lonely I think about getting back in touch, I remember that exchange and it sets me straight. I hope I never lose sight of it, or the fact that he never really liked me that much to begin with. Or if he did, he had a funny way of showing it. Or he was just raised completely wrong, or something happened to fuck him up badly along the way. Whatever it is, I will give him credit for giving me a warning every once in a while that he was not the one for me. Sometimes it was blatant, other times it was more subtle and an instinct on my part. He showed me who he was, and I should have believed it the first time. However, claims of having complete self-control and/or claims of emotional/physical indifference about me after the "let's just be friends" talk have been grossly exaggerated.
One of my Facebook friends posted a status update the other day that said this: "When a pickpocket meets a saint, all he sees are pockets." And suddenly it was a lightbulb moment--I need to stop giving myself to emotional pickpockets. Now, if you'd asked me at the beginning of my relationship last year whether or not that person was an emotional pickpocket? I'd have said "Of course not." Without a doubt in my mind. But this was because we didn't take the time to get to know each other emotionally or mentally before we decided we were head over heels. Or rather, HE did, and I just idiotically let myself be taken for a ride because, well, I really liked him and could have seen myself being totally in love with him one day. For me (and this is why I think it's so hard for me to let go of people), it's a huge risk to let anyone in. And THIS IS NOT JUST FOR ME. It's for all of us, and we're all scared to fucking death of it, but some of us are more open to it than others because we know that's what it means to live. To be alive. I guess you have to let that happen when it's your time to happen, and we all have different times where we realize it. So anyway, when I let down my guard and let you in? You're in for life. Which is a lovely quality but also turns out to be a hindrance to myself, because what I'm saying is that I'm not ever going to let you go, no matter how bad things get between us. I'd never just be "done" with someone altogether. I'm forever willing to give another chance, second-guessing myself as to what it was that I did to drive someone away and not realizing that holding onto them isn't always the best idea, no matter how good a person they seemed to be. Because you want to believe yourself so badly, believe that you're smarter than to let bad people into your life. And no one I've been into romantically is a "bad" person. I don't even know if I believe in that. I believe certain circumstances led people to certain points and that we aren't inherently bad. It's just that we don't all know how to deal. None of us know what the fuck we're doing, really, when it comes right down to it. And so maybe we pickpocket people emotionally, without even realizing it. Things got very intense between me and last year's guy, very very quickly, and though it seemed at first that he was ALL about making me happy, it turned out that his need to make me happy was just something he had to prove to himself. At least, that's the way I see it--making it all about him. Putting emotional demands on me (as gently as he did this, he did it) so early in the game, making me believe he was one kind of person (although the insecurities slipped out more often than I'm sure he would have liked), and then, losing interest and pulling the plug when he knew I was emotionally invested and that he felt like he couldn't actually demonstrate the things he'd claimed to feel for me. That, in essence, was the issue--I think he wanted a relationship so badly that he fast-forwarded right past initial attraction into intense infatuation that he mistook for falling in love, and he pulled me right into it with him and then freaked out and backed off once it was time for shit to actually get real. When really, shit should have been real to begin with. I should have been smarter than to let myself get sucked into something that moved so quickly, but it just all felt so damn good that I wanted to be open to the possibility that, hey, maybe this is it. Maybe someone really IS that crazy about me. Well, he wasn't. Or he would have tried harder to keep me. He was just looking for someone who would validate him, who would stroke his ego and let him get what he wanted, and then he was like, "Oh fuck, I don't even want to make her happy. I want to make me happy. By leaving once I've conquered her emotionally." It's such a childish impulse, to get what you want and then not want it anymore. Immature, and insecure, this person. Seems to be all about you, but doesn't want you looking any closer at him. I always, always got the feeling he was keeping things from me, things about his past or upbringing or whatever that kept him from being realistic. Things I would have accepted as part of him being HUMAN and not perfect. I want to ask, to this day: "Who did this to you?"
So yes, he turned out to be an emotional pickpocket, trying to get confidence/validation/normalcy/whatever from me, and once he got what he wanted, he left. The other guy I was into, although he showed it in completely the opposite way, also needs something from people whether he ever admits it or not. He needs to feel in control, as though he knows more about how people are than they do, knows people better than they know themselves, is smarter than everyone else, cannot allow himself to ever be vulnerable or available in any way. You'd think that'd be a very lonely life, and you'd be right. I hope that someday he lets someone make him happy without feeling the need to criticize/expose/make fun of/stonewall/push her away. To stop being so much in his mind and start being more in his heart. I doubt he'd even admit to having one, and the things he says sometimes put serious doubts in mine about its presence. But that's only when I get angry about it. When I get sad about it, it's because I know it's in there. Every once in a while I'd see a shadow of feeling in there. I just wish he'd let it out more, and if it's with someone else, more power to him for eventually letting it happen. In that case, at least I'm sure that it wasn't me. And in my heart I know the first case wasn't me either.
So what would I like to tell myself? What have I learned from all of this?
1) Get to know someone inside and out before you decide they're worthy of your affections. Friends or otherwise, there is a chance they could pickpocket you emotionally and leave you in a state you have to pull yourself out of. Luckily, the people who DO really care about you will care whether or not you're emotionally healthy, and will give rather than take.
2) Speaking of which, you aren't a bitch. Repeat: you. are not. a bitch. You have moody tendencies, sure, and are not always Merry Fucking Sunshine ;) But you live authentically, you love authentically, and you are a good person. You aren't selfish, or overly difficult, or unworthy. You are honest and quirky and creative and the people you love are aware of it. You show your love to them--probably not enough, and this can be worked on. But they know it. And anyone who would drop anything if a friend or family member needed her is certainly not a bitch. You are, inside, a sweet and caring and thoughtful person who would do anything for the most important people in your life. And you know what? Anyone who DOES think you're a bitch only knows you on an inconsequential surface level, meaning it's okay if they don't like you. Because they don't matter. You know who does. The people who stuck around long enough to find out who you really are, and the people who helped make you this way.
3) If you saw yourself in a movie--if you were watching someone who is exactly like you, only NOT you, in a movie--what would you say to yourself? Would you be proud of your decisions, your actions, your motivations, and what makes your life? Because you're great at giving advice to others, but when it comes to yourself, you lose sight of your own interests. Taking better emotional care of yourself does not make you selfish. It will allow you to, so to speak, let the right ones in. Study yourself and take a step back and don't get lost. Let your mind teach you and your heart guide you.
4) While you anticipate loving someone else, get back to the things YOU love. Immerse yourself in them. Writing. Reading. Singing. Often. As much as you hate to actually announce this? You are amazingly talented. This is part of that whole "taking a look at yourself objectively" thing--do not be so hard on yourself that you forget the good stuff. Your voice has untapped power. Singing and otherwise.
5) You don't know when love's going to happen. Don't force it. But don't give up either. Try to find somewhere in the middle of that and maybe it'll happen that way.
*Big, huge sigh*
See what I meant about getting it all out?
xoxo
One night this past week, I was really tired, or so I thought. I tried going to bed early, only to toss and turn for what seemed like hours. I finally turned the light back on, opened up my laptop, and started writing. And after I was done? I fell asleep. So this is something I need to remember about myself. I need to write. Since I was a child, it has been a way for me to collect my thoughts, to make sense of things, to breathe emotionally. To get it out. Sometimes I look back on things I wrote and don't even remember/believe I wrote them. Which, I think, is a good sign because I get into a state of realness when I write. Not censoring myself and worrying about what will sound good later--just kind of letting it all hang out. That's something about myself that, for better or for worse, is obviously here to stay. Somehow, I will express myself, whether it's talking or writing or singing or what have you--and I think that's better than living inside yourself.
Speaking of which, I've been thinking a lot about myself as a person and trying to look at myself objectively. Recently I went through a period of deep, deep depression. I'm not saying it'll never happen again or that I'm completely out of the woods, but sometimes...things get bad for me, worse than I'm willing to admit for fear of sounding whiny or self-absorbed or...whatever. It would take years of therapy to really work this out, I bet, and it's something I've been doing a little research on lately. But there are periods where I will cry every day, where I will feel completely purposeless and sick of everyone and everything, where I wonder if it's worth trying anymore to find someone to love. A lot of factors contribute to this depression--and I'm not going to list them, but it's a big ol' mess inside me, I'm sure.
Anyway, so part of it is that momentous things were happening for me last year at this time, relationship-wise, or so I thought. The whole thing turned out to be a total farce, and now that person is with someone else, which (no matter how strong you are or think you are), fucks with you. You start wondering, "Well, what did I do wrong? Was I really that bad of a person that they couldn't work through it with me? Why her and not me? Why does he get to be happy and not me, when he's the one who was unhappy and ended it to begin with?" etc. etc. etc. until you just have to realize that it probably wasn't your fault. I will never know the reasons behind why it's her and not me, or even if they'll last, but I have to stop thinking it's any of my business. It's just hard when you really, really give yourself to someone emotionally, you really start to care about them and think about being with them in a long-term way, and then suddenly, just like that, it's over. It gives you doubts about whether any of it was real in the first place, and makes you feel stupid for having fallen for any of it. And it didn't make things better that after a month or two of no contact, we started acting like we could just be friends again. Now, I was willing to try this out, and it wasn't one-sided--he'd contact me, I'd contact him, etc. etc. But that was just an ego stroke on his part, to make himself believe he wasn't this awful person who had done something so horrible that we couldn't even talk anymore. I remember during the phone call that ended it, he blurted out, "Can I still call you?" and at the time I should have said no and stuck to it. But you want to believe this person still cares about you, you want to know you're not this hateful person, and a teeny tiny part of you (or a big part, depending on who we're talking about) wants them to suddenly realize how dumb they are for breaking it off, and for them to come back. I'm not saying I'd let this person back in wholly and completely, even right afterward, but at the time I'd have liked to hear "I don't know what I was thinking, this was the wrong decision, I never should have done it" blah blah. And the fact that he was still calling afterward (only after I eventually said he could) made me happy, I'll admit. The fact that he sounded just as lonely and bored as I was--it was validation that maybe he should have tried working through his own issues before abandoning me. But now...there's someone else in the picture and I have nothing substantial going on. That + shitty weather and seasonal depression + one year ago I was really happy + insecurities that have been with me since I was a little girl + not being on medication, which I probably should be by now = yikes. Not a healthy girl.
For a while, I was actually dating a guy I started to get really, really into. I'm not going to get into the specifics of why this also didn't work out, but we went back and forth (no matter how much he would insist that it was 100% my doing, it wasn't) emotionally and physically before the final straw, which was pretty recently. This person was bad for me, and bad in the way that if I asked him right now, he would insist that his being bad for me is somehow my fault. Which is the core of the badness. No matter what, it was always about my issues. Him telling me what I wanted and needed, him suggesting ways I could improve myself when I never asked him for that--I only wanted someone to try and understand, not try and fix. And someone who constantly feels the need to make fun of someone and never compliment her when she is someone he supposedly likes has SERIOUS, SERIOUS ISSUES of his own to work on. I never knew what he was thinking until it was too late to talk about it; instead I'd ask what was going on and just be talked AT, with an overly cerebral pseudo-psychological explanation of bullshit surrounding my issues (ie, "I'm not ever going to tell you you're pretty because you wouldn't believe it anyway" is loosely what I got concerning that issue). I could never, ever get him to open up emotionally, instead it had to be all about me and the fact that I supposedly needed something he could never give me. (Like, I don't know, common courtesy as a woman and just the teeniest, tiniest bit of compassion and sensitivity about my feelings.) As though I was looking for a psychologist, not just someone human who has a heart and will just hold me through all the madness. Someone who will tell me he likes me, plain and simple. Someone who won't get completely defensive when I ask what's going on. Someone who is not trying as hard as he can to push people away and sabotage what could have been a good relationship or at least a good try. I felt...dumped on. I felt belittled. I felt incriminated every time I tried to get below the surface. And after all the false starts, regardless of how serious or casual our relationship was in the end (we were never a couple and by the end I certainly wasn't trying to be one), he ended up saying the most insensitive thing that anyone has probably ever said to me, about something extremely vulnerable, and that's when I knew I had to end it for good. This wasn't that long ago, and although it's been hard to let go of it because I really did like certain things about him, every time I get so lonely I think about getting back in touch, I remember that exchange and it sets me straight. I hope I never lose sight of it, or the fact that he never really liked me that much to begin with. Or if he did, he had a funny way of showing it. Or he was just raised completely wrong, or something happened to fuck him up badly along the way. Whatever it is, I will give him credit for giving me a warning every once in a while that he was not the one for me. Sometimes it was blatant, other times it was more subtle and an instinct on my part. He showed me who he was, and I should have believed it the first time. However, claims of having complete self-control and/or claims of emotional/physical indifference about me after the "let's just be friends" talk have been grossly exaggerated.
One of my Facebook friends posted a status update the other day that said this: "When a pickpocket meets a saint, all he sees are pockets." And suddenly it was a lightbulb moment--I need to stop giving myself to emotional pickpockets. Now, if you'd asked me at the beginning of my relationship last year whether or not that person was an emotional pickpocket? I'd have said "Of course not." Without a doubt in my mind. But this was because we didn't take the time to get to know each other emotionally or mentally before we decided we were head over heels. Or rather, HE did, and I just idiotically let myself be taken for a ride because, well, I really liked him and could have seen myself being totally in love with him one day. For me (and this is why I think it's so hard for me to let go of people), it's a huge risk to let anyone in. And THIS IS NOT JUST FOR ME. It's for all of us, and we're all scared to fucking death of it, but some of us are more open to it than others because we know that's what it means to live. To be alive. I guess you have to let that happen when it's your time to happen, and we all have different times where we realize it. So anyway, when I let down my guard and let you in? You're in for life. Which is a lovely quality but also turns out to be a hindrance to myself, because what I'm saying is that I'm not ever going to let you go, no matter how bad things get between us. I'd never just be "done" with someone altogether. I'm forever willing to give another chance, second-guessing myself as to what it was that I did to drive someone away and not realizing that holding onto them isn't always the best idea, no matter how good a person they seemed to be. Because you want to believe yourself so badly, believe that you're smarter than to let bad people into your life. And no one I've been into romantically is a "bad" person. I don't even know if I believe in that. I believe certain circumstances led people to certain points and that we aren't inherently bad. It's just that we don't all know how to deal. None of us know what the fuck we're doing, really, when it comes right down to it. And so maybe we pickpocket people emotionally, without even realizing it. Things got very intense between me and last year's guy, very very quickly, and though it seemed at first that he was ALL about making me happy, it turned out that his need to make me happy was just something he had to prove to himself. At least, that's the way I see it--making it all about him. Putting emotional demands on me (as gently as he did this, he did it) so early in the game, making me believe he was one kind of person (although the insecurities slipped out more often than I'm sure he would have liked), and then, losing interest and pulling the plug when he knew I was emotionally invested and that he felt like he couldn't actually demonstrate the things he'd claimed to feel for me. That, in essence, was the issue--I think he wanted a relationship so badly that he fast-forwarded right past initial attraction into intense infatuation that he mistook for falling in love, and he pulled me right into it with him and then freaked out and backed off once it was time for shit to actually get real. When really, shit should have been real to begin with. I should have been smarter than to let myself get sucked into something that moved so quickly, but it just all felt so damn good that I wanted to be open to the possibility that, hey, maybe this is it. Maybe someone really IS that crazy about me. Well, he wasn't. Or he would have tried harder to keep me. He was just looking for someone who would validate him, who would stroke his ego and let him get what he wanted, and then he was like, "Oh fuck, I don't even want to make her happy. I want to make me happy. By leaving once I've conquered her emotionally." It's such a childish impulse, to get what you want and then not want it anymore. Immature, and insecure, this person. Seems to be all about you, but doesn't want you looking any closer at him. I always, always got the feeling he was keeping things from me, things about his past or upbringing or whatever that kept him from being realistic. Things I would have accepted as part of him being HUMAN and not perfect. I want to ask, to this day: "Who did this to you?"
So yes, he turned out to be an emotional pickpocket, trying to get confidence/validation/normalcy/whatever from me, and once he got what he wanted, he left. The other guy I was into, although he showed it in completely the opposite way, also needs something from people whether he ever admits it or not. He needs to feel in control, as though he knows more about how people are than they do, knows people better than they know themselves, is smarter than everyone else, cannot allow himself to ever be vulnerable or available in any way. You'd think that'd be a very lonely life, and you'd be right. I hope that someday he lets someone make him happy without feeling the need to criticize/expose/make fun of/stonewall/push her away. To stop being so much in his mind and start being more in his heart. I doubt he'd even admit to having one, and the things he says sometimes put serious doubts in mine about its presence. But that's only when I get angry about it. When I get sad about it, it's because I know it's in there. Every once in a while I'd see a shadow of feeling in there. I just wish he'd let it out more, and if it's with someone else, more power to him for eventually letting it happen. In that case, at least I'm sure that it wasn't me. And in my heart I know the first case wasn't me either.
So what would I like to tell myself? What have I learned from all of this?
1) Get to know someone inside and out before you decide they're worthy of your affections. Friends or otherwise, there is a chance they could pickpocket you emotionally and leave you in a state you have to pull yourself out of. Luckily, the people who DO really care about you will care whether or not you're emotionally healthy, and will give rather than take.
2) Speaking of which, you aren't a bitch. Repeat: you. are not. a bitch. You have moody tendencies, sure, and are not always Merry Fucking Sunshine ;) But you live authentically, you love authentically, and you are a good person. You aren't selfish, or overly difficult, or unworthy. You are honest and quirky and creative and the people you love are aware of it. You show your love to them--probably not enough, and this can be worked on. But they know it. And anyone who would drop anything if a friend or family member needed her is certainly not a bitch. You are, inside, a sweet and caring and thoughtful person who would do anything for the most important people in your life. And you know what? Anyone who DOES think you're a bitch only knows you on an inconsequential surface level, meaning it's okay if they don't like you. Because they don't matter. You know who does. The people who stuck around long enough to find out who you really are, and the people who helped make you this way.
3) If you saw yourself in a movie--if you were watching someone who is exactly like you, only NOT you, in a movie--what would you say to yourself? Would you be proud of your decisions, your actions, your motivations, and what makes your life? Because you're great at giving advice to others, but when it comes to yourself, you lose sight of your own interests. Taking better emotional care of yourself does not make you selfish. It will allow you to, so to speak, let the right ones in. Study yourself and take a step back and don't get lost. Let your mind teach you and your heart guide you.
4) While you anticipate loving someone else, get back to the things YOU love. Immerse yourself in them. Writing. Reading. Singing. Often. As much as you hate to actually announce this? You are amazingly talented. This is part of that whole "taking a look at yourself objectively" thing--do not be so hard on yourself that you forget the good stuff. Your voice has untapped power. Singing and otherwise.
5) You don't know when love's going to happen. Don't force it. But don't give up either. Try to find somewhere in the middle of that and maybe it'll happen that way.
*Big, huge sigh*
See what I meant about getting it all out?
xoxo
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