|Why don't you say what you really feel?
||[Jul. 9th, 2014|04:07 pm]
T believes that all my bad dreams are precipitated by fear of abandonment, but what really frightens me is that, when I have nightmares, they usually involve me losing my filter, raising my voice, and telling people exactly how I feel. You can't go through adulthood without your white lies and your pleasant, smiling faces (to mask your anger/rage and disdain/contempt), especially in delicate situations. You can't tell people how you really feel if you need to continue working with them.
At the same time, you can't let people walk all over you, trample on your rights, or use you. It's a fine line.
I just spent 2 hours of my life trying to balance on that line as 5 months of plastering a reasonable, approachable mask over my actual feelings is about to come crumbling down. It's not that I had any real expectation of honesty, and yet it's still a massive punch in the face to realize that someone has been blatantly lying to you, and that they will cheerfully go out of their way to hurt the people you love. I didn't have any real expectation that they would be reasonable, based on past behavior, and yet I thought, maybe this time will be different.
It's weird that I am the tactful, reasonable, responsible one. Spending some time with my family last week really hammered home the way my family's narrative (I was labeled, from the age of 2 or 3, as the "bad" child) affected me. In fact, they still believe that I was a bad child, despite the fact that I didn't drink, smoke, do drugs, flunk classes, steal, get in actual fights, or pretty much do anything except beg to be left alone to read and write. This kind of screwed me up: years of being told how selfish I was caused me to become altruistic in a way that doesn't always serve me. I wish I was actually selfish. My crimes as a child: not wanting to do chores, not always getting along with my siblings, and bristling under my father's tyranny. My knowledge was never honored, but my infractions were always punished. Because I was bad. Only by making myself subservient to others could I be seen as good.
I love my family, but their perception and treatment of me was based on bad heuristics. Now I have to overcome the ideas that I learned as a kid, that certain behaviors were unacceptable from me, even if those around me were allowed those outlets, and even that certain thoughts were unacceptable, and that I naturally deserved all the pain that came to me.
Anyway, those 2 hours have gotten my heart rate up. My mind is racing. I'm not an anxious person, but I am filled with anxiety (although it's mitigated a little by finishing the task...at least I don't have the anxiety over accomplishing it, just over what comes next). This afternoon seems lost. Now I'm just figuring out how to calm down.