Where do I begin, I have so many things swirling around inside my head….Start at the beginning.
Firstly, I would like to apologise for having not posting on here for ages. I wrote a post on my own blog today about yesterday and how it impacted on me. But the self-doubts creep in and eat away at me. Yesterday made me powerless. I had to give my own statement of events regarding one of the G20 protests on the 2nd April to the IPCC (Independent Police Complaints Commission) and the experience made me feel powerless, vulnerable and exposed.
The feeling of powerlessness was palpable along with a sense of injustice (I attended Workers’ Memorial Day demo after my appointment with the IPCC) which increased listening to people at the rally talk emotionally of a death of a family/friend needlessly in the workplace, due to shoddy health and safety, cuts and sheer negligence. And then the uphill struggle of finding out the truth of why they died.
I sat there and found myself crying. And then I felt stupid because how could I feel upset, upset about my own circumstances, coupled with listening to testimonies of injustice and powerlessness. Brave people. Yet I chastised myself for allowing myself to get upset….about me and about the morning. I felt selfish.
This lies at the heart of my own lack of self-esteem and insecurities I don’t believe I am worth it, I don’t believe I can get upset over me. I minimise my own distress. I amount to little.
There, I said it. I was brought up to believe that others were important, and that I was less important, and that I didn’t have a right to feel depressed, upset or anything. I was constantly told by my parents I wasn’t worth much, and I believed it. I grew up believing everyone else was better, more important and worth so much more than me. If you had to get to heart of my anxiety and depression it is the sense of worthlessness. I amount to nothing.
And yesterday I was overwhelmed by anxiety yet I felt I didn’t deserve to feel upset and again, I find myself comparing others awful experiences in life so therefore I had no right to be consumed by this feeling of vulnerability and powerlessness.
Today I still felt emotionally exposed, I ran for a couple of miles on the treadmill at the gym hoping that would fight the demons inside my head, the endorphin chemical hit dissolving these insecurities, self-doubts andworthlessness. It didn’t. I found myself sobbing in the toilets, feeling so desperate and despondent. The ever prisoner in my own mind searching for an escape.
I kept thinking I can’t be the only person who thinks this about themselves, and yeah, I know I am not. I have met people who mirror similar beliefs about themselves, rather like me, they find it hard to take compliments, see the positives and so on. It is easier to believe the negative. And I can’t see myself in a positive way, people may like me, tell me they like, but it just bounces off my head, it rarely penetrates my psyche. I walk around with a false, disjointed and fractured view of myself, that’s what I have been told but to me it is my reality, it my own ‘truth’.
And I reflect these ‘truths’ to other people, because if I believe it others must do. QED. I have a damaged self-awareness. I assume that other people are better, more intelligent, lovable and likeable than me. My parents did well in drumming that into as it took so many years to realise this as on an unconscious level I had accepted this interpretation. I feel awkward and uncomfortable when people are complimentary and say positive things, that may seem surreal to a lot of people but I do.
When I have experienced rejection, I blame myself and believe it must have been me. It is always me. And that they will find people who are better, lovable, nicer and worthier than me. I can never compete. Again, this pushes me back to childhood, feeling unloved, miserable and invisible. I could never compete.
I know I am not the only person who walks around thinking this about themself. There is so much alienation, isolation and atomisation, people damaged by life and the sheer destructiveness of it all. I sometimes find it hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel and in the human collective spirit.
The reason I am writing this is escaping from the inescapable (that’s how it feels like), making that dramatic leap where I can kinda maybe like and value myself and rid these distopian and damaging views of myself. Years of counselling scratched the surface. For me, just writing ‘maybe kinda like myself’ is alien and unsettling.
It is easier to believe these things and scarier to pursue an alternative, a more positive approach to my own self. Years of unraveling and healing cruel, inhuman and heartless conditioning.
I know people like me but how do I start to even grapple with idea of liking myself? In others words, how do other people cope?
Sorry if I have gone on…