I had an interesting talk with my sister yesterday.
We got started talking about our issues. The bad ones, not the good ones. We talked about the things that are wrong with us, what feelings they stem from and why we seem to have these feelings and don’t know why. We talked about how when we do certain things there’s a part of us, the conscious part that says “hey, why the hell am I doing this? There’s no reason for it.” Yet, our subconscious tells us we still have to do it.
This was what we talked about, why our subconscious minds drive us to do things (or not do things) when we know perfectly well that it’s ridiculous.
I’ve been having some trouble with some of my own behaviors in terms of things that most people find come naturally, yet I have trouble with. So I asked Angie to list off my issues for me, in hopes of being able to make some sort of connection between them and get to the root of the problem. And, maybe, someday be able to get over my hang-ups.
Some of the things on my list were:
-My desperate need for approval. This is why I work so hard to keep my house clean, stay busy all the time, behave myself appropriately at all times, and never allow my emotions to get the better of me. Whenever I discover that someone thinks badly of me I am absolutely distraught, probably because after all of that work to be approved of, I can’t understand how someone could possibly dislike me.
-My inability to be vulnerable or show weakness. I want people to see me as independent, I hate having to ask for help, I hate feeling indebted to people, and I won’t cry in front of anyone, not even myself sometimes. When I do break down people don’t know how to handle it because I am so often the stoic presence that steadies them when they are falling apart.
-My need to mother the weak, and help those in need. I can’t just let it be, when someone needs help I am the first to offer most of the time. I give people rides, I offer to watch their kids, I listen to their problems and offer whatever advice I can. I’m there for them, and they know it and depend on it. Sometimes it becomes overwhelming, but I still keep doing it.
-My inability to reach out. I have trouble touching others. I want to be touched, I need to be touched. But I can’t make myself reach out and touch someone else to instigate physical contact. I hide it behind embarrassment, or shyness, but it’s something else. It’s worse when it’s someone I really care about, people I don’t care about I can approach to my heart’s content, but those who are important to me are more difficult. The people I care about can hurt me by rejecting me, unlike the people I don’t care about. I think about it, then I get afraid and can’t bring myself to do it. Making that gesture takes me out of my safe space, in which I can’t be rejected, and even when I know I won’t be rejected the fear is still there.
-My need for security and stability. I don’t make changes in my life intentionally, I prefer to have a set routine that I follow with no major shifts, if things shift around me and I have no control over them I feel lost, disoriented, and scared. I won’t make changes unless I have to; again, they take me out of my safe space and make me feel vulnerable.
Basically, all of these things stem from my feelings of fear. Fear of rejection, of abandonment. My insecurities all come down to the fact that I am afraid of being rejected and abandoned. Tossed aside for something better. It makes sense then that of my two phobias, claustrophobia and monophobia, one is the fear of being alone.
It scares me to think of being alone and unwanted, unloved and forgotten. I always feel a certain sense of loss when I leave a place and find that life went on without me while I was gone, that I was easily replaceable, and that I didn’t really matter as much as I’d thought I did.
So where did this come from? Why do I have these feelings? And, more importantly, why do they control my every waking moment? Everything in my life has been controlled by my fear. Even moving here, while I like to think that it went against my fear and was a choice made in my heart, was really just a choice between two fears. My fear of failing where I was, and my fear of changing to somewhere else. Failure won the battle, and I made a huge change, because facing that change and dealing with whatever happened once I got here was better than the alternative of failing Mina and ending up homeless (or even worse, living with my parents again).
There's a lot more I could divulge on this subject, but I think I've overshared enough for the day. A lot of it comes down to my parents. My dad just wasn't there, no wonder I have trouble with male/female intimacy, I never had a role model for male contact. My mom has the same issues of fear, and never opened up and shared her emotions with us, so I learned to do the same. She also rarely told us that what we did was just fine, and that it was appreciated just because we did it. Instead our failures were pointed out, rather than our accomplishments. No wonder I try so hard to please others, their approval will never make up for the lack in my childhood, and I'm always left feeling hollow when they tell me how much they care, how much I am appreciated. Because they are not her. Even now, when she's grown and developed a better understanding of her own behaviors towards us, her approval can't erase the damage that was done to a little girl who wanted so much to feel like she made a difference.
I know, it's a cop-out to blame my parents for my issues. Every parent makes mistakes, I know I have, and I know that I will continue to. I don't feel like I'm blaming them, I just need to know what influenced my life to cause this reaction in me. A different child when faced with a father who was non-existent, and a mother who was emotionally closed off, might have reacted positively and grown more determined, more open, and more confident from it. I was not that child. I was a shy, introverted, bright little girl, who understood that there were emotions swimming beneath the surface of my mom's calm exterior, and that she wasn't sharing them with me, and there was no way for me to help her. It made me feel worthless, and helpless.
She probably thought she was protecting me from her worries. But in the end it did more damage than she knew.
Tammi thinks I should post this. It's the most open and honest I've been in a long time, it brought tears to my eyes telling her about my fears, and about how tired I am of dealing with them all the time. But posting it reveals my fears, and my weaknesses to the whole world.
Talk about being afraid!
But more importantly, posting it gives me a way to share these things and face my fears by doing so. Without really putting myself in jeopardy. Without having to look people in the eye and admit that I'm weak, I'm afraid, and I am lost.
