I enjoy writing on the blog because it's so cathartic. I also like feedback *cough*hint*cough*. When the people who read give me their opinions or questions, I can explain what they don't understand and what they're curious about.
Anyway, I've been in a bad mood like, all day. Actually, for the past couple of days. I'm on the verge of being depressed, yet I'm not quite there. I've been very touchy about what people say and I find that I've been walking with a chip on my shoulder. One of the most horrible and loathsome behaviours I've been indulging in is a behaviour that I've cultivated since I can remember.
I do a lot of harm to myself in my head, and this is probably the worst way I harm myself. I set people up to fail. The behaviour starts with a feeling that is difficult to discribe, at best. The feeling is close to self-hatred. When I do hate myself, I want myself to die, go away, just don't exist. I do realize that it is permanent and when I leave, I can't come back. However, that is okay with me when I hate myself. All I want is darkness, solitude, and for the nagging little thoughts in the back of my head to go away.
I digress. The feeling this usually starts off with is smaller than self-hatred. It starts with thinking I do something wrong or being told I'm wrong or have misbehaved and it snowballs from there. Because I did or said something wrong, I am imperfect. Not only am I imperfect, but I'm about as far from perfect as anyone can get without committing a felony.
This is when things get tricky. See, now is when I start pulling back. I feel myself withdraw. I hardly smile unless I'm forced to, I either eat anything unhealthy (like right now I'm drinking a Dr. Pepper and eating Lay's Sour Cream and Onion potato chips) or eat nothing (like I was doing earlier today). For the most part, I feel like a disgrace to my family, especially to Mom and David.
Once again, there are two actions I chose from and sometimes I chose both. I either withdraw and plead inside my head for someone, usually someone specific, to do just the right thing or I try to do good deeds to be as good of a person as I can. As I'm thinking about it, I realize that I either do the first or both, but never only the good deeds.
I'll give an example, and this happens often. There will be someone important to me (usually not an adult, but sometimes... hardly ever my mom) who notices that I'm withdrawn and sullen. They ask me if I'm okay, and I say I'm fine, or okay. Most of the time, I want them to ask again so I can say, "No, I'm not okay." I want them to ask me what's wrong and I want to be coddled. It's kind of a shot to the head when not only do they not respond correctly, they do exactly what I want them NOT to do.
Do you see the problem with that? Not only am I expecting someone to do something completely boundaryless, I'm also setting myself up for failure. This is not healthy at all and I know it. I honest to god hate myself for it sometimes. I hate that I feel like I have to lean on other people for my self-worth. I hate that I long so desparately for compliments. I hate that even though I realize I'm doing wrong, I can't or won't change it. Scratch that. I can change how I feel. Why don't I? Because I can be an idiot sometimes, and this particular thing is hard to give up. I've tried, but not very hard.
Odd as it is, this thought process is comforting in a way. I set myself up for failure and the familiar sensation of acute pain because someone didn't tell me I looked beautiful when I was having a bad hair day or because nobody noticed when I worked hard on my hair, make up, and clothes, and worst of all, when I worked on something big and achieved a large goal and the only person to recognize it is my mom is comforting because I expect the pain. I am used to the emotional stab and, in a sick way, I kind of like it.
So this is why I've been in a rotten mood.
As I reread the last full paragraph, I realized that my behaviour isn't much different from the people who cut or burn or bite or any cause any other sort of injury to themselves. I suppose you could say I had an epiphany. Like I've said a lot lately, though. Physical abuse is, in my opinion, not nearly as horrible as emotional abuse because when you're physically abused, at least you can see the scars. With mental abuse, you're left with all these problems and nobody to see them except you and the few people who care enough to look deeply into your personality.
I know a lot of people are battling depression, and yet I feel so isolated. Frankly, I'm surprised at how many people have come up to me and said, "Hey, I read your blog. This helps because (I/someone I'm close to) (am/is) dealing with the same stuff. Awesome. Totally cool. Depression is so isolating, though, and even though I know a couple of people who understand, I still feel alone.
It sucks.
Next time I post, I'll probably write about driving and band because both are making me extremely nervous. *sigh* Oh well.
Btw, tell your friends, coworkers, family members, etc. about my blog, please. The idea of it is to "Spread the Word", like the title says. ((: Thanks!
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