My heart has been heavy lately with so many big emotions. I have been sensitive to the slightest changes in tone, behavior, action, and gesture.
I have done better with this fall-down than I have in years past–I am using my supports in better ways and I am aware of my most harmful patterns of thinking.
But. One thing just trips me up, over and over again.
I am so very ashamed of my problems.
Growing up, shame was a super useful weapon that was wielded against me. It made me do my chores. It made me stay quiet. It made me stay loyal. It made me stay skinny.
But it also made me insecure.
When I start to feel depressed, and I can see the dark, muddy hole that I so hate, yet so easily get trapped in, I start to fear.
It is unconscious. I do it without even realizing I am doing it. I start to fear all that is and imagine that my life, my connections, being easily taken away and shattered.
It is worse when I am craving connection. Right or wrong, I am a person who needs to verbalize my thoughts and emotions with another person. It validates me and just helps me throw it all away and move on.
Unfortunately, it is not always easy to find a person to vent to. My husband is not the most welcoming figure when it comes to this…after all, right now, we hardly talk much at all, so opening up when I am already feeling sore and vulnerable doesn’t always feel easy or like something I am willing to do.
And that makes me sad.
So I look to others–friends, mentors.
Unfortunately though, shame starts to eat at me. I think, Nobody wants to hear about you! Nobody needs to be burdened by your petty crap.
Sometimes, sometimes I trust. I connect. I…slip.
I share. I open up.
And the insecurity arrives. I act weird. Or I say the wrong thing.
Then I feel like I need to clarify. So I apologize. I need reassurance.
I freak out, assuming the person is just so done with me.
It’s a pattern. A stupid pattern.
A pattern I feel the utmost shame over.
Why? Why do I do this?
Why do I want and need to be needed and cared about?
It feels weak. It feels embarrassing. It feels needy.
I hate the way it feels.
I am ashamed.
I am ashamed that I am not strong enough to be okay on my own. I am ashamed that I am not one of those people who simply attracts others because of the joy that exudes from their soul.
I am ashamed that I am me.
I am insecure. I am anxious. I am depressed. I am a lot of things.
Yes, there are good things in my life. There are things that I am proud of, and things that I am good at.
But, I can’t shed the shame. The shame will forever lead me to believe that I am not good enough.
Certainly not when I am being authentically me.
Shame makes me fearful. Insecure because I am insecure.
Why would anyone love that?
I do a good job faking it. I can smile and laugh. I can paste a fake happy look on my face and communicate with others competently.
…I try to be enough. I try to be what others want.
….but when will I be free?