I’m so disappointed in myself lately. I don’t know why, I keep arguing with this stupid paranoid person who thinks Obama is a Muslim and all this other paranoid conspiracy theory crap. I keep trying to give and give myself, to be honest, to break through the rage and like connect with another person. I’m such a goddamn mediator. I hate the idea of people mistrusting one another. Like, can’t we just work it out?
But it never goes that way. This person wouldn’t know a reputable citation if it smacked her with a wet trout. Nothing I say is getting through, she just hates me for being liberal and sees nothing else. And I’m just so angry.
Why do I do this to myself? At the expense of productive work, too.
Thank you. I was just coming here to post this. I remember reading Part One back when she originally posted it and thinking, “That’s… not good.” I remember that feeling so vividly: “I can do whatever I want, because fuck it all, nothing matters!” (And I say “remember” only because I’m no longer completely consumed by it, but I still feel its pull often enough.) It feels so freeing and powerful at first, and then it starts to get real old real quick (see: Part Two). It becomes, “I can do whatever I want… and what I want is nothing. Or maybe no more Nothing. Hard to say. Gonna stare at the floor for a while. Because fuck it all, nothing matters.”
I’m really glad things are apparently a little better for her right now, and for me as well. But I find myself sabotaging my own happiness like it’s my job. Literally. I waste time that should be spent doing the actual work I’m ostensibly paid to do on things that feed my depressive and anxious tendencies. And of course, it doesn’t help matters that I then feel like a failure at work. (And may actually be one! Can’t wait for annual reviews.) It’s almost like I’m so used to feeling and functioning with some level of depression that I feel abnormal when I don’t. I’m still trying to figure out how to live like a normal person.
Wow, you nailed exactly what I’m going through right now too. I would apparently rather argue with strangers on the internet, and feel bad about it, then do a job I love.
I know on an intellectual level that it is wise advice. It’s just–and this could very well be the depression talking–that it seems to me that people who say they don’t compare themselves to other people are usually the folks who don’t have to struggle very much to be so above it all. If you have been able to check off all the lifetime achievement boxes and escape the stench of loserdom, all neurotic insecurities seem trivial. But if there were a loser, would they think so?
I tell my therapist today that, as hard as I try to embrace my own sense of purpose and individuality, I haven’t been able stop feeling shame about being who I am. And she tries to comfort me by telling me to stop comparing myself to other people. To do this she points out her knock-knees. She doesn’t hate herself because she doesn’t have straight legs like everyone else. So why should I hate myself because I’m a 35-year-old woman-child?
Her legs versus the course of my entire life. We got into an argument about how ridiculous her comparison was. Of course, since I was the one in tears I felt like the loser of the fight.
But I did leave feeling better. Not because of that though.
When I memorized that, I probably couldn’t have been much more of a loser. Going into detail would probably be pointless since it wouldn’t be an objective assessment. The point is, even though the therapist’s example was bullshit, I’m sure that if you stop for a moment, you can, on your own, imagine any number that wouldn’t be. IOW, any number of people who would probably consider your life enviable - purely based on a superficial assessment of course, not counting the emotional turmoil.
That’s why I love that poem so much. It helps to put things in perspective. There will always be people who have more - more money, more love, more admiration - more of whatever it is you think is most valuable. And there will always be people who have less. You don’t have to be content with what you have, but that’s different from being envious.
My mood has been up and down, but mostly down, since October; I hurt my shoulder, and got pulled of my favorite and primary responsibility at work. Yesterday, I was doing okay. Today, not so much.
We just moved. I want to cry. Intellectually, I can remember that a week ago when we closed, I was so happy to be moving into our first house together. But today, when I look at the boxes and the furniture and the mortgage statement and the dwindling bank account, all I see is one more thing tapping me in a life, and a relationship, that I’m not happy with.
I know that I’m a lucky individual and that I have a lot that I should be grateful for.
I am not one who stews over life’s injustices. I don’t think I got dealt a raw hand in life. Compared to most people, I am very fortunate. I’m always telling myself this and I sincerely believe it.
But it is possible to be grateful that, say, your house hasn’t burned down and you have enough food to eat, while simultaneously being frustrated over certain things in your life that will not go away no matter how much you try. It’s gotten to the point where I don’t want to talk about my feelings with anyone because I’ll only be lectured to. So I keep things to myself until I make myself as sick as I was today.
I don’t know what I’m looking for. I guess someone to say, “Your feelings are understandable and I would probably feel that way too” before they start in on the sage-on-the-mountaintop stuff? I think this would go a long way to helping me not feel so alienated.
Well of course. And if what I said amounted to a lecture, it’s only because I know how self-destructive it can be to look at what other people have acquired or accomplished and then look at yourself and feel so small.
You don’t know how many times I’ve chastised myself for not having done more with my life. I graduated magna cum laude from college, have graduate degrees in law and finance. But because of my OCD, I was an IT consultant for most of my career because I couldn’t handle what was involved in other careers. I went to school with people who are appellate court judges, the heads of agencies, CEOs, CFOs, etc. I believe I could have done much more - had more of an impact. But I didn’t.
Eventually I just had to come to accept myself and my limitations and do whatever I can to try to improve myself. I can’t say that I’ve made a lot of progress in the areas I’ve wanted to, but over all, I think I’m a better person. And even if objectively that’s not true, it’s the subjective reality that matters.
However from what you said, the part about things ‘not going away’, it sounds like there are things that are actively antagonizing you. That’s a completely separate matter and those are things you need to talk about - with us I hope. I’m sorry if I misunderstood. I’m not a judgmental person so please forgive me if I gave you that impression. I’m just hopelessly inept and often tactless.
I think a more useful way to think about it is not to compare your insides to other people’s outsides, because they might be trying to cover up just as much upgefuckedheit as you feel you’ve got. And they might be comparing their insides to your outsides because maybe your issues don’t show as much as you fear they do. We never quite get inside other people’s minds even when they invite us in, and vice versa. Even when someone articulates their feelings in such a way that others say “YES! That’s just how it is with me!” there’s always going to be some differences that aren’t so easy to articulate.
Heh, I should have read ahead, you already said pretty much what I just said. But I forgot to add that yeah, the therapist’s comparison was pretty crappy.
Ha! It’s always amazed me that people can’t read my mind. I don’t mean literally, just that if I don’t say what I’m thinking, people seem to have no clue. It took me so long to realize that. Once I did, it was really tempting to take advantage of it.
But that’s a great observation. Your perception of their perception of you compared to their perception are probably so different that even a Vulcan mind meld wouldn’t convince you of how different they are.
I’ve hit the ‘why the f*ck do I bother’ stage of things. Won’t go into a lot of detail, because… well, why bother? just realizing that i’m apparently only wanted around when i’m doing things for people, or when they need someone to vent to. if neither situation applies, i’m completely invisible. yay.
Good for you, olives. Fucking Facebook, man. It’s demonic. I’m sure you’ve seen it before, but just in case, here’s the relevant xkcd for this situation. (Don’t miss the mouseover.) I have this hanging next to my monitor as a reminder. It does help, sometimes.
I’ll tell you what: I’ll make a promise to all of you that as soon as I post this, I will only do work for the rest of the day. No Dope, no FaceTheFactThatYou’reALoserBook, no nothing. And if I fuck up, I’ll stop and get right back to it. I promise. (And I note that just typing that kind of fills me with… something like fear. Which is weird.)
Yes, yes, yes. I am terrible about comparing myself to others. I know I shouldn’t, and I do it all the time, and then that’s one more thing to beat myself up about: “Everyone else seems to be content with their lives, even So-and-So who’s objectively far worse off than you, so what’s your problem?” And this is ridiculous.
What I do, that always helps when I can remember to do it, is to try to imagine myself as someone else. If I had a friend who was exactly like me in every respect, would I feel ashamed of her? Embarrassed for her? Would I judge her for the things for which I judge myself? Would I compare her to other people? Not at all. I would accept her as she is, as a fellow human being. And if she judged herself and expressed frustrations with her life that were exactly like my own, I’d say something like, “Your feelings are understandable and I would probably feel that way too.” And then I’d suggest that she try to see herself as someone else, but at that point the mental exercise devolves into some kind of bizarre Matroyshka doll, and I have to abandon it and go look at cat videos.
Anyway, the point is, I’m always far more compassionate toward and accepting of others than I am with myself. So I’m always trying to remember to direct some of that compassion inward. But as I said, it’s surprisingly easy to forget.
And yes, comparing her knock-knees to your whole life is ridiculous.
I will say, though, that the fact that this seemed like a valid comparison to her tells me that her crooked legs are probably something she’s struggled with a lot, and perhaps she has hated herself for them at some point. It never ceases to amaze me how much pain people can experience over things that, to me, seem trivial. And I’m sure other people have no idea why I suffer over some of the things I do. I’m not saying her suffering is actually anywhere close to yours, just that it seemed equal enough to her to be relatable.
But still, I agree this was a dumb thing for her to say. It’s like when my mom died a few years ago. I had someone tell me that her mom had also passed away recently, so she understood what I was going through. Except, her mom was way older than my mom. I know, because she was older than my mom. I just wanted to shake her and scream, “You had about 40 more years with your mom than I had with mine. Fuck OFF.” Not the same. In fact, the best thing said to me, by my uncle, was “No one else can understand exactly what you’re going through right now, because no one else had the same relationship with her.” It might sound depressing and cold to basically tell me that I was alone in my grief, but the thing is, I already felt alone. And instead of trying to tell me (as everyone else did) that I wasn’t alone and he could totally relate, he just affirmed for me that I was right: my grief was ultimately mine to struggle with, and that’s really hard, and that he felt sorry I had to suffer.
And I think that’s why (at least in part) people say stupid shit to someone who’s suffering, and try to relate when they can’t. Because it feels cruel and wrong and alienating to tell someone, “Wow, you’re right. That’s really terrible. I’m lucky enough to have no idea what you’re going through.” But I think sometimes, it’s actually the most compassionate thing you can say.
So that’s what I’m saying, monstro. I have no idea what you’re going through. I go through stuff that’s hard for me, and the “imagining myself as someone else” thing helps me. So try that, but it may not help, because what I go through may not be like what you go through at all. I do know that what you go through is really hard, though. And I’m sorry about that.
Also, I don’t know how much you consider your posts here to be the “real” you, but I like them.
Also:
Again, yes and yes. (And upgefuckedheit is my new favorite word.) This is the other thing I have even more trouble remembering, but it relates to what I was saying above. No one else knows what’s going on in your head. At best, they’ll only ever have the vaguest outline. Think about all the times you’ve been surprised or confused by something someone else did or said - especially someone you thought you knew really well. Think about all the times when, even when you were pouring your heart out as articulately and completely as possible, you still couldn’t get someone to understand where you were coming from. Other people just don’t - can’t, really - understand or perceive you the way you do yourself. So again, when monstro’s therapist compares her knock-knees to monstro’s problems, it says to me not only that she sees her knees as somewhat of a big deal, but also that she probably sees monstro’s problems as far less of a big deal than monstro does. In one way, that’s really disheartening: “No one understands what I’m feeling!” But in another way, especially if you struggle with the feeling that you’re a huge loser and fear that this is obvious to everyone, it can be helpful to learn that other people see you as you are, but interpret what they see in a very different way.
I admit, I was a little worried about this thread. I’ve seen online support threads for mental health issues that really just became incredibly depressing non-stop pity parties that helped no one. But I feel like this one is really working out, helping people to be heard and to look at things differently.
I’m so happy yoga has been helpful for you! I remember when you first asked about it on the boards, and the various ups and downs with it - seems like it has finally settled into a really positive force in your life. That’s awesome, and makes me think (for about the 20th time this week) that I need to find a new studio in my new neighborhood, and start practicing regularly again.
Also, I hope it helps you sometimes to remember that you belong here, too. You’re one of my favorite people on this board. If you stopped posting regularly, I’d be worried, and if you died, I’d be damn sad and miss you a bunch.
It’s crappy that you struggle to like yourself, when other people find so much to like about you. Life doesn’t make much sense that way, so many of my absolute favorite and wonderful people have issues with depression and self-loathing.
Mental hugs (or whatever loving, positive gesture you’d prefer to a hug) to everyone feeling down about who they are today.
I can’t believe I missed this post - it happened while I was hospitalized for a suicide attempt. When I got out of the hospital I hardly booted up my computer at all - a symptom of the ongoing depression. I did have ECT after I got out, it’s hard to say why I feel better though - is it the ECT or the fact that I finally decided to walk away from a career that was torture to me? I’m filing for short term disability (my doctor is strongly supporting my claim) and trying to figure out what to do next.
