WARNING: INDIVUAL IN MIRROR IS CRAZIER THAN THEY APPEAR
It is for everyone. We all experience disappointments. Life hands them out like candy from a pez dispenser.
I, like many, keep people at an arms distance, using sarcasms as a defense mechanism. Guarding my feelings. Afraid to let anyone get close to me.
I can’t explain how I developed anxiety about others liking me. Other than the fact I got made fun of all the time when I was young. In elementary school girls pretended to like me, then made fun of me using anything I had disclosed.
For lack of a better analogy, it felt like handing them the gun they shot me with.
I immediately learned to trust no one. At 41 my ability to trust has NOT improved.
Unfortunately, as an adult I’ve been back stabbed enough to reinforce within myself that people are not trust worthy. At least none that I’ve known.
It’s sad. I really love people. But I CANNOT, perhaps WILL NOT allow people into my life.
I’ve perfected my actress skills over the years. At least I assume I have. No one thinks I hide anything. People constantly say things like, “I know you pretty well” or “We’re good friends. We think alike.”
Except when they talk, I know there is nothing a like about us at all.
In fact, I’m so good at this actress role I’ve given myself, people think I’m one of the funniest people they know. After all, at face value laughter is associated with happiness.
In my case, it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Starting Life Again
When I met my husband in 2001 I was going through a divorce. I believe my ex-husband feels the same, so I don’t feel bad in saying we stuck it out for WAY too long.
Regardless, my current husband was like Prince Charming. He strolled in on his white horse with charm the prince himself didn’t possess.
Even then I wanted to be alone. Certainly I didn’t deserve anyone that nice. I knew it then, and I know it now.
He deserved better. Still deserves better.
For reasons I don’t understand, he stuck with me. Being the fun loving guy he is, he dealt with me not wanting people at our house. Of course, I never wanted to go to anyone else’s’ house either.
He dealt with my intense lack of wiliness to obtain and maintain friendships. All the while clinging to him like a life preserver.
First Deployment ~ 2006
Fast forward to his first deployment. The one in which he first started to change.
When he returned, I was glad to have him back. Considering I was in my own world, I didn’t notice any change.
I’m sure dealing with me for the past 5-years was taking a toll. If only I had a dollar for every time I told him,
There is a special place in heaven for you, for having dealt with me.”
He thinks I’m crazy. I’m okay with that.
We all need someone.
I needed him, but now he needed me too. Admittedly, I didn’t take the role well.
Fast forward to today
Today, or should I say for the past few weeks I’ve barely been able to accomplish anything. I feel like weights are attached to my arms and legs. My eyes barely able to stay open.
I smile. My false presentation of happiness well intact at work.
I text my husband to get a little sympathy. Sad I know. He has it worse than I do. Yet, I text him to say how bad I feel.
This is how people with depression, anxiety, and PTSD feel every day. Later you will feel like you wasted your day, while having zero energy to accomplish anything.”
My reply, may or may not have surprised him,
I actually feel like that quite often. That is why I try force myself to do stuff when I’m too tired.”
I do that a lot. It’s my way of trying to not get sucked in the downward spiral of hopelessness.
So I force myself up. I tell myself, just get this one thing done. Then you won’t have wasted your day.
But as my husband said, it isn’t enough. Not for me anyway. All I think about are the days when I could have reached the moon and back.
Today I would settle for getting the grass cut at the end of a work day.
I do know I’m going to keep fighting. Fighting for a happier place. Fighting for my dreams because I know it’s within my grasp to achieve them.
Some of us fight harder than others. That’s okay. Let’s make sure we keep fighting.
L’hitraot (See you soon),
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