(no subject)
I'm trying so very desperately to pretend that I don't care. It's not that I want to be indifferent, but I'd much rather not care than be upset. It's so much easier to be upset with someone you know you can't possibly lose. I mean, you can be furious with your mom and have an argument with her, but she's always going to be your mom and of course she'll always love you. The problem with me being upset (or even disappointed) with a friend is that I am so desperately afraid of that confrontation in which I actually express my feelings of being crushed because I'm terrified of messing something up. I hate making people feel guilty or bad and am afraid that, by making people upset, I will slowly start to tear up the friendship. (Logically, of course, I don't think this is likely to happen, but still. . .) So instead I pretend not to care. Or, at least to most people I pretend not to care. Because if I tell others what I'm upset about I may seem childish, selfish, like a brat, a horrible person, etc. So I keep on pretending. And, really, it's not hurting much, except maybe myself a little.
It's so much easier to tell people what you think they want to hear. To say that you're fine, even if you're absolutely crushed. To say that being left out (whether it's intentional or not) is perfectly all right because you were planning an evening of solitude anyway, or that you have a headache, or have to help your parents/sister/etc. Maybe it's not true, although it might partly be the truth, but it's so much easier to say so than disappoint. And sometimes you give hints that it's really not all that you hoped for, but most of the time those go unnoticed. . . or at least ignored. And sometimes you tell people what they want to hear about themselves, too, because you want to seem supportive or helpful. Rarely do people ever truly say what they're thinking- everything that they're feeling. Maybe sometimes it's better this way. . . but a lot of times it isn't. Yet, even with that realization, I still continue to, not lie, but not be entirely honest either in some cases just because it seems like it's more of a right thing to do than tell the absolute truth about what I'm feeling or thinking.
I hate being hypocritical and I know that, in a way, how I really feel is being horribly hypocritical right now. I wish desperately that I could change that.
I absolutely hate feeling left out and right now that's exactly how I'm feeling. It's probably my fault, but, all the same, it leaves this crushed feeling in the pit of my stomach that just will not go away. The funny thing is that I'm not entirely left out of everything, but the things that I feel excluded from suddenly seem absolutely magnified. (And I'm terrified that I'm going to feel like this the whole week Up North. I don't even know what I'm going to do.)
Yet I am still so easily pleased by the little things. An evening with a friend, a random phone call, an unexpected compliment. It amazes me sometimes how people who are years younger than me can make me feel so much better, so much more comforted, and seem to be protecting me. (When, shouldn't it be the other way around?)
Sometimes I wish that I could see what everyone else sees. The good things that I would never notice about myself, but, somehow, other people recognize it which would build my confidence, and the negative things, which I could recognize for what they are and (hopefully) improve them. I can't see what everyone else sees in me at all. People are always saying such nice things when they're actually talking to me, but it's not like anyone would say something mean to your face, so I don't even know how legitimate it all is, even if it does make me feel better. Then again, if I knew that people actually didn't like me at all, I would probably be absolutely crushed, so maybe ignorance is better.
You're not supposed to care about what other people think, but I don't see how that's possible. Part of you always judges yourself by what others think. My problem is that I just care too much about what people think. . .
Sorry that this is so long and rambling and pointless. This is what happens when I spend all day reading and writing thank-you notes while nannying and then come home only to have absolutely nothing to do.
It's so much easier to tell people what you think they want to hear. To say that you're fine, even if you're absolutely crushed. To say that being left out (whether it's intentional or not) is perfectly all right because you were planning an evening of solitude anyway, or that you have a headache, or have to help your parents/sister/etc. Maybe it's not true, although it might partly be the truth, but it's so much easier to say so than disappoint. And sometimes you give hints that it's really not all that you hoped for, but most of the time those go unnoticed. . . or at least ignored. And sometimes you tell people what they want to hear about themselves, too, because you want to seem supportive or helpful. Rarely do people ever truly say what they're thinking- everything that they're feeling. Maybe sometimes it's better this way. . . but a lot of times it isn't. Yet, even with that realization, I still continue to, not lie, but not be entirely honest either in some cases just because it seems like it's more of a right thing to do than tell the absolute truth about what I'm feeling or thinking.
I hate being hypocritical and I know that, in a way, how I really feel is being horribly hypocritical right now. I wish desperately that I could change that.
I absolutely hate feeling left out and right now that's exactly how I'm feeling. It's probably my fault, but, all the same, it leaves this crushed feeling in the pit of my stomach that just will not go away. The funny thing is that I'm not entirely left out of everything, but the things that I feel excluded from suddenly seem absolutely magnified. (And I'm terrified that I'm going to feel like this the whole week Up North. I don't even know what I'm going to do.)
Yet I am still so easily pleased by the little things. An evening with a friend, a random phone call, an unexpected compliment. It amazes me sometimes how people who are years younger than me can make me feel so much better, so much more comforted, and seem to be protecting me. (When, shouldn't it be the other way around?)
Sometimes I wish that I could see what everyone else sees. The good things that I would never notice about myself, but, somehow, other people recognize it which would build my confidence, and the negative things, which I could recognize for what they are and (hopefully) improve them. I can't see what everyone else sees in me at all. People are always saying such nice things when they're actually talking to me, but it's not like anyone would say something mean to your face, so I don't even know how legitimate it all is, even if it does make me feel better. Then again, if I knew that people actually didn't like me at all, I would probably be absolutely crushed, so maybe ignorance is better.
You're not supposed to care about what other people think, but I don't see how that's possible. Part of you always judges yourself by what others think. My problem is that I just care too much about what people think. . .
Sorry that this is so long and rambling and pointless. This is what happens when I spend all day reading and writing thank-you notes while nannying and then come home only to have absolutely nothing to do.