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0 By Tim
I don’t want to write stuff like this in this blog. I don’t like placing it in a medium that can be read by vague acquaintances (or even strangers) as easily as it can be by people I know well and trust. The idea of it being on the internet until the day the servers die worries me. I don’t like trying to structure these kind of thoughts into something that reads legibly on a page.
But right now I cannot identify any other option, so sod it.
I think there’s a human need to feel understood and accepted (not ‘agreed with’ – that’s different). I believe that the technical term is ‘feeling validated’. You have no idea how much contempt I have for myself for having actually written that down.
I can’t explain my emotions
When I try to broach this subject with friends, I never quite get to say what I want to say (if I even manage to start). The most recent attempt lasted only a couple of minutes. It culminated in the suggestion that maybe I could try drawing. This was so wide of the mark of what I had been trying to talk about that my resolve crumbled, and the conversation promptly disintegrated altogether.
I have spent a lifetime not connecting with my emotions. And even when they do surface, my core defence mechanism is to forget. It’s so advanced that even when I WANT to remember them (e.g. to explain them to a therapist or a friend later on), the memory of *what* I was feeling and *why* evaporates on the breeze. In the moment, this is terrifying. Because I know that if I cannot relate them, I cannot get help in understanding them. And if I cannot understand them, I cannot know how to prevent/heal them. And if I don’t know that, they will come back again and again, and I’ll remain unable to escape the cycle.
I am already hating everything I’ve written. What comes to mind is a stereotypical teenager whining ‘nobody understands me (wahh wahh wahh)’. Although, I suppose, in that stereotype, the teenager either believes himself to be an undiscovered genius or going through strife so great that no other human’s experience could compare. I do not believe either of these things. Quite the opposite.
I’m scared of imposing on others
One of the reasons why I am so terrible at sharing with others is that I firmly believe that there is no place for my incoherent ramblings in their lives – and to attempt to force them in would be an extreme imposition. If someone else has even the smallest Real Life Problem going on (spoilers: everybody always has some manner of Real Life Problems going on), then I cannot justify anything that comes out of my self-indulgent little mind as worthy of their time. That is, even if I have an idea of what I want to say in the first place, which I don’t.
As a result, any expression and/or explanation of my personal feelings requires several days’ preparation, note-taking and hell, even revision. If this sounds like I’m taking an exam, you’re not wrong. Talking about myself is like an exam where all the textbooks are in languages I can’t read and no one wants to accept my submission anyway. Unfortunately, all this work does little good in the end. Even when I write up these notes/etc., they seem so stupid or alien when I return to them later (having expertly suppressed or forgotten their reality in the interim) that I struggle to convey what the hell I meant by them in the first place.
(To wit: I started writing this maybe 30 minutes ago. Already, I’m losing sight of what it is I’m supposed to be talking about.)
Fear of judgement
Even if I were to successfully enunciate something that’s troubling me, I am aware that in most cases I will face immediate judgement for it. It would be well-intentioned judgement, sure, but no less off-putting. If I’m struggling with something, the immediate response would be ‘So, what are you doing about it?’ If my answer is less perfect than ‘I know exactly what I’m doing and am so capable of sorting myself out that one wonders why I felt the need to open my mouth in the first place’, there is a degree of scorn, because I’m evidently not trying hard enough and must just be wallowing instead. These reactions defeat the purpose of sharing, I think. I am less looking for the practical solutions, so much as I am trying to understand what the problems really are.
(There are many memes floating around to this effect, which include quotes along the lines of ‘If you have time to feel shit, you have time to sort yourself out’. As if ‘time’ were the limiting factor in any way.)
Talking is supposed to help
I’m led to believe that talking things through with others is the main avenue to this, but maybe I’m wrong.
At this point, the frustration that I felt when I started writing this piece has vanished. It’s been replaced by some kind of sullen defeatism. I’m sure this is just the next phase of my defence mechanism kicking in. Honestly, I’ve just skimmed up and re-read most of the text above. It feels like it was written by somebody else.
So I’m going to continue to sit here and say ‘Yeah, fine’, when asked how I am. And I’m not going to volunteer information about myself, because no one wants to hear it anyway. And the next time I feel I need help to try and understand why I feel so frustrated/isolated/trapped/similar, I’ll go play a game of Spider Solitaire instead. At least I win maybe 15% of those games.
Sorry. This has taken an even more mopey turn than I had expected.
I’m not sure if I want people to read this or not. If they do, then I’m probably going to feel humiliated from even slightly exposing my brain like this. If they don’t, well, that kind of proves my point about no one wanting to hear it. Just another trap I’ve set for myself, then.
Eh.
1in4 UK Book Store:
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-Stok.
Reproduced with permission, originally posted on stokerino
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I totally get the “can’t put stuff in words” thing. I have 8 funded appointments with a psychologist and I feel like I have wasted the first 4 because I can’t put anything inside my head into words. So I don’t have any words of wisdom on how to share your emotions and stuff in your head. But I can relate to the problem and I also think I’m annoying friends if I even try to talk to them about what I’m thinking or feeling.