“I found a home in loneliness. Now, I long to be emancipated from it.” – personal quote.
Self-awareness involves a great deal of consciousness and being…aware. It involves holding yourself accountable–seeing where you went wrong and learning from those mistakes to involve into something more. I personally love the concept of it, especially since I reside more in my head than sometimes. Add depression and PTSD to the mix, and we have a home of me being the product of my own undoing that can go a bit too far. There’s a quote by Lao Tzu that puts it all in perspective for me: “If you are depressed you are living in the past. If you are anxious you are living in the future. If you are at peace you are living in the present.”
“Okay girl, all of this is nice and all…but where is all of this going?” Currently, I am going through a dark place with myself. The mental mix mentioned earlier became a catalyst of something I cannot even verbalize to anyone. This “something” feels so overwhelming that I am scared to see how this even is going to end up. Here is to no outline, no prep, no anything. Just intermittent tears.
(Sidebar: let us also add the fact that I do not like “feelings”. This is PARTICULARLY important, and one of the reasons I am opening about this. I would prefer to live in the inner world of knowing what should be explicitly seen and understood, versus having a feeling toward it. Complicated, but there is the prelude.)
Growing up, I always felt *weird*. I talked too much, and I would get in trouble for it. I would get into little mental competitions with others based on me feeling inferior due to intellect or my own sense of understanding things. This list can go on but let us end it here. I did not have many typical experiences others had, and it made me feel very alienated. I never knew who to be friends with or trust. Between being told who I can/cannot be around, to going to school and just wanting to fit in….. I did not realize how much that had affected me until later. That is normal, right? The not so normal part (that has been creeping on me through so many various aspects of life) has been my lack of feeling it and talking about it. I love talking. I love the idea of interaction and getting close to others. But I am not a fan of feeling anything. I honestly have chosen to be numb for a lot of things through life until therapy.
No one really knows me. My parents, my family, my relationships, no one. I do not let others get too close, no matter how it may seem, because I am afraid. I go through bouts of thinking I am not good enough, self-deprecation, and even thoughts that are not okay for one to have towards oneself. So, I learned early on as compensation to lie about things. My feelings, emotions, thoughts, occurrences. I would even lie about dumb shit for attention as a kid. When I got older, I realized how that affected me because whenever traumatizing things happened, I called myself a liar for being hurt and for being affected. It was either that or stifling it. If it was not about grades or superficial things, it did not feel like it mattered. I was taught that what happens in the house, stays in the house. I heard the words, “I love you”, but never understood them. I grew up wanting actual friends like other girls. I wanted approval/acceptance in others to keep me from feeling “alone”. I grew uncomfortable with being myself, which grew to being uncomfortable with not being able to be who I want. Complicated, right? I wanted to feel desired and wanted around for my weirdness. I wanted to feel comfortable in my own skin versus having to change, morph, lie, and sacrifice things I believed in just to FEEL something. Thinking about everything just…. makes me feel very, very emotional. It makes me realize how alone and lonely I have been. Detachment is not a cute personality trait.
My words, my feelings, my experiences…those things were invalidated. It led to me growing up believing I deserved the same fate: to be invalidated, to be a martyr, to sacrifice my sanity for shit that should not matter when I get older. Typing this *alone* makes me just…make me question what I am doing: being vulnerable and sharing my feelings and thoughts on those things to let them go and heal. “Keep that shit private.” I cannot anymore. I do not want to lie to others anymore about how I feel, what I think, what I want, who I am anymore. I do not want to keep lying to myself anymore.
I always felt guilty for having feelings or choosing the wrong times to vent. Inversely, it was hard to vent. I felt stupid for so much, and it would have come across as ungrateful/unappreciative. Those were not the cases. I understand others in life have it significantly harder than me. I understand that things could be worse. But for once, just for one moment, am I able to say that I am mentally crying and cursing myself for feeling? The world is a cold and dark place, full of conspiracies, lies, and hurt. I have seen it. I have put myself in more situations than I can count, and currently still being filled with guilt about them. I cannot honestly say “leave it in the past” when the past lives through me currently due to me not dealing with it and feeling shit for what it is, and letting those things go, respectively. What am I trying to say? I do not want to be emotionally unavailable, and I wish to no longer attract people like that nearby. It has taken too much of pain for me to now have the ability of others surrounding me who have my best intentions and want to HEAR me. Those who want to listen to my voice, my pain, my questions, my questionable yet insightful thoughts, anything. I do not have to prove my worth, and that should never be the case to feel something. I do not have to sacrifice myself to feel love.
You cannot stay to exploit my pain, then switch when I find my joy. I do not expect anything in return for being a good person. I do not expect anything from a person that needs to confide or vent to me, because I know what it is like to not have that. It is easy for a person to question why you never came to them, but it is harder for them to hear/see for themselves if they have ever made it safe for that to even be possible. But the beauty in that? It can *possibly* open their own wave of self-awareness. With that, being aware of the pain and hurt does not justify in any way, shape, or form hurting others. Yes, hurt people hurt people. But being aware of your hurt and still choosing that path does not make you any better than that person.
I have been telling myself it is okay to not feel, to not question the feelings, and just be content with what is there. I cannot do that anymore. I would rather not. If I live my life numb, am I really living? You cannot walk around with a dead soul and expect to bring /revive life.
Writing and creating are my safe spaces, and I want to share through what I am building for myself. I am not going to lie; I have neglected this site. I was afraid to come back. I felt like I was not doing anything worthy. With pieces that have been requested, I just…. felt stumped and questioned why how I feel matter to others. I felt guilty for why I even created this. I will say this though: imposter syndrome is a liar. I feel called to do this, to share, to tell my stories, to be a voice for those that may not even be able to have theirs; for those who might have a voice but want to get better with their sense of self; for anyone who cares about all the facets of me and even the random things I want to talk about. It is worth it.
The following are words that I use to affirm myself through this rough time. If you or anyone else needs it, use it, and tweak it according to how you need that boost.
I am hurt. And that is okay. It is okay to cry. It is okay to feel. It is okay. I will be okay one day. I am here. I am enough. All the things that make me who I am cannot be taken away from me. I have taken them away from myself this long. I just want to be free. I will be.
I love you. Thank you for reading.
