I know that a big problem of mine is wanting someone to
care about me. My whole life I felt like no one cared. No one cared when I was
upset. No one cared when I was happy. No one cared when I was standing there
wanting to enter into the conversation. No one cared that they hurt my
feelings. No one even knew I was there. I was ignored. I was invisible. When I
was really young, I’d literally look at my arms or legs and feel like the line
between them and the air was fuzzy – fading away into nothing. The fact that no
one cares about my feelings to this day upsets me to no end. Saying this hits a
nerve so deeply that I’m starting to get teary eyed. It is so strong for me. I
was always ignored, dismissed and no one cared.
What did I have to do for someone to care? What did I
have to be?
I guess in a way I really did want to be rescued. I felt
like I identified with Cinderella or Rapunzel, trapped, alone, unknown, waiting
for someone to come and rescue me from my misery. For someone to care. For
someone to notice me.
Why do I feel the need to have someone care when I am
upset? What’s the deeper meaning in that? Maybe someone has to give me
permission to be happy? Because I don’t think I deserve it? That’s all
definitely true, I would even consciously think that as I grew up, but is that
the underlying problem? Or is there something else? I definitely have always
felt like I didn’t deserve to be happy. I was never good enough. My grades
weren’t good enough. My behavior wasn’t good enough. No one wanted to be my
friend. I wasn’t allowed to do things. No one even really noticed me. So the
few people who ever did meant so much to me. And mostly they were guys. This
was all in high school, but the feelings obviously carried into college. There
the feelings were buried deep and covered by new feelings from new experiences.
I don’t even know what they started as, but they ended up being feelings of
superiority and a strong confidence that was like a scab over the wound. But
let’s ignore those. I want to figure out the pain behind no one caring about me
or being there for me.
So let’s think about this. No one cares what I think or
say, or that I’m even there. No one cares when I am upset. What thoughts did
that lead to? Well, it led to “then what’s the point?” What is the point, then?
When we are here to spread love in the world, and no one wants yours, then what
is the point? Ah, but it isn’t that simple. Little gestures of kindness, smiles
and courtesies are ways to spread love that don’t require anyone to pay any
attention to you at all. Instead of hiding back then, I probably should have
made myself even more of service. Well, wait, then I would have been annoying,
right? I’d been called annoying in my youth, prior to all this. I always
thought it was funny that when I was silent and hidden away, people thought I
was intriguing; when I was happy and social, people thought I was annoying. Oh,
the irony. For a long time I decided silent and intriguing was the way to go,
except for the couple boyfriends that cared enough for me to open up and be my
goofy happy self. Wow. You know what, it wasn’t like that for a “long time” -
it still is that way, for the most part. Maybe a couple exceptions. Maybe
that’s why I’m introverted! Any time I was ever extroverted, I was rejected.
Anytime I was introverted, I was given attention and made to feel special.
People liked the introverted me – no one liked the extroverted me. So the
extroverted me, to this day, is way underdeveloped, and the introverted me is
as developed as you can get. That’s really interesting… I’m literally figuring
this out as I’m writing.
My main question still remains – why does it matter so
much to me for someone to care about me? What do I need to do or feel for
myself in order to lessen this need? No – to FULFILL this need by ME, instead
of looking for a cure in others?
I need someone else, with authority, to genuinely tell me
it will be okay. I need someone else to give me permission to be happy – to
tell me I’m good enough to feel happiness. I need someone to tell me that I
deserve to be happy. I need someone to tell me I am capable and able to handle
whatever situation has caused me to be upset. I need someone to remind me that
I am awesome and whatever the problem is, it doesn’t matter and it can’t hurt
me.
That’s it then. I need someone to care when I am upset,
because I will just stay there. I won’t feel worthy of getting back up. I’ll
torture myself with misery to punish myself for whatever I’m upset about. I
need someone to tell me that I don’t have to do that. I need someone to remind
me that I am worthy of love, and that I have theirs. I am lovable. I am worthy
of love. I am worthy of happiness. Stop torturing yourself. You don’t deserve
it.
That’s one of the main things I’ve looked for in a
relationship. And of course most of them failed. Actually, all of them failed,
except my first love, but that’s probably because the underlying pain was raw
and fresh. For all the others, it had been covered, so how would they know? To
them, I was strong, and my emotional outbursts were surprising and almost
bipolar. To me, it was a constant pain I dealt with 24/7 that I managed really
well most of the time, but it would eventually reach a breaking point and I’d
fall apart. And I needed someone there to put me back together – I needed
someone to lean on. Just help me find my balance so I can manage that pain and
those scars again. Now I want to heal those scars instead of just covering them
up. After all these years, now I see.
So how am I going to teach myself that I am worthy of
love and happiness? That I am capable? That I don’t have to punish myself? I
thought I’d been working on that. Well, maybe that’s exactly how I was able to
bring it to the surface. I didn’t realize how deep it went.
Time to focus on that for a while.
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