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Wednesday, May 15, 2013

Myself

I am alright. I am okay. Yes, I have some things I could work on, but I can fix them. I don't have any sort of disorder and I don't need help. I am okay and it is time to fully admit that so I can actually start enjoying life.

It took this long to figure it out who I am. This isn't my final destination, at least, I hope not. But I've worked out a few things over the past two or three days and it's kind of a relief.

Here is what I thought I was, and here is what others tried to perpetuate. I must clarify that some of this was done with good intentions, not to bring me down:

People-pleaser
Weak
Anxiety-ridden
Depressed
Unable to say no
Unable to make decisions
Over-emotional
Completely dependant on others
Prone to crying over little things

So for a huge chunk of this year, I believed it. And there were people who tried to get it out of me, presumably so I could get help for it. I soon believed that I was just broken and that I needed to slap those labels on myself.

Aside from the jokes about my apparent weakness that only two people seemed to make on a constant basis, I portrayed myself as broken. It makes this seem like an act, but on the surface, I felt like I had to. I was obligated to try to be broken, since people had already accepted that I was.

It affected the way I lived. It took over in some respects. When I would get mildly and reasonably upset, I would attribute it to the way I was wired. I would overthink such instances and make myself stressed about it. When I would get disappointed, I would blame it on my possible disorder. It was almost like I was hoping that something really was wrong with me. At the end of every day, I was just confused.

I began to feel really sorry for myself, but it never hit me to the core. It was only on the surface. Even so, it felt like I had to keep opening myself up and picking out my own flaws, just to amplify them and label them.

I don't know what I was looking for.

The incident earlier this year, the alcohol and the attempt at self-harm, seemed to just be a way to solidify my own wavering opinion of myself. If I succeeded, that would have fully assigned that label. But looking back over that, I really wasn't feeling it. I didn't feel it, I knew that I was okay while doing it. I wanted to do it, just to do it.

That low point was a result of me over-thinking and wanting something to be wrong with me.

I'm still trying to work out why exactly I wanted to have issues. Some might suggest jealousy, because others who had legitimate problems were getting help. But that was not it. I cannot stress how much that was not it. I looked at those situations and I've been on the helping side and knowing that I couldn't even begin to understand what they were going through made me feel horrible. There was misery in that, and nothing about that situation was desirable.

It did take up a significant chunk of my time, this built up attitude. Time that could have been spent realizing and accepting that I was actually alright all along. Had I known that earlier, I might have been able to treat myself and others much better.

I got something out of this, though. It made me consider and respect those who actually do go through hell. There's a difference between pity and respect. You can't do anything with pity. But if you respect someone and know that they are suffering without feeling sorry for them, you are able to make more of an impact. I'm not a therapist, I'm not a psychologist, but I can listen and I can be there.

This also taught me that it's okay to be strong, just as much as it is okay to be weak.

I know who I'm not. I don't have anxiety, I just get nervous at times. I'm not a doormat, I'm just indecisive at times. I'm not in dire need of help. I am not depressed, I get sad occasionally. I am okay. I am alright and I'm still getting better.

I don't think it's bad to be able to be proud of this. I do not mean to imply that I am in a better place than those who cannot say the same. What I mean is, I am able to help others. Otherwise, I would just be adding to the worries of others unnecessarily, because my case, whatever this was, is not true.

I am alright and it feels damn good.


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