PERSONAL

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3,391

Immutability?

8 years ago1,583 words

Can we ever truly change, I wonder? I notice a pattern repeating; it feels as if I'm losing my only friend for exactly the same reasons that I lost my girlfriend, when I had one all those years ago, despite spending years telling myself I'd learn and grow from my mistakes and become a better person. I'd still like to think that's possible, but it's a disheartening position to be in, feeling from observations of yourself that perhaps you're just beyond repair...

I'm not going to send that survey from the previous post to people at my university, by the way. Too many understandable objections to bits of it, too little energy or motivation to change it. It's much easier to just quietly beat myself up about how my bizarreness leads to doing or making things that might inadvertently hurt others, I suppose.

I feel as if this mind of mine is a virus; a plague, which is best quarantined, kept away from others to spare them suffering. I started to feel this way as my only romantic relationship slowly fell apart, all because of me.

I 'get moody', basically. I sulk. I get upset by some little thing that's said to me, then go quiet, withdraw, silently scream signals that I'm hurt... and I expect the other person to read my mind, to comfort me and ask me what's up, even though it's obvious, even though I'm annoying them by doing this, so why should they want to comfort me? Do I want them to think they are at fault and must apologise for it? Is that any way to make people want to be around me?

The bizarre reasoning goes something like this: I do want to talk about things, I really do; I want to open up communication about what's bothering me and get through it to a better place through words, through understanding. But it feels as if I need to be asked, because love given as a gift is infinitely more valuable than love asked for as a reluctantly-given favour. I want the person to show that they care about me by expressing that explicitly; if I simply explain what's up, then it feels like they didn't care because they didn't ask. Or something. It's stupid.

Things that set me off include... well, far too many things. My friend mentions her boyfriend. I sulk, because I don't have a partner. She mentions things with her group of friends. I sulk, because I don't have any other than her. She mentions anything nice that she's done. I sulk, because nice things don't happen to me. She mentions some trivial thing I don't watch or like or play or know about, and I sulk because I feel there's distance between us.

It takes a while, but with my ex and with her, there comes a point where it feels like walking on eggshells. "I can't say this because he'll get moody". Barriers are put up, freedom stifled.

It's so frustrating because what I like most is being told "I can talk to you about anything!" or similar, or "I like how you don't judge me" (that must be comical to people who knew me from Fig Hunter). It's because I want to be some kind of caring counsellor type; the sort who'll listen to you talk about your problems and offer empathetic support as much as I can, because I know how it is, because I don't want anyone to suffer. And I suppose that when topics like that do come up, I'm fine. People do tell me I'm a good and supportive listener.

It's just that when people talk about positive things, I'm so at home in negativity that I flinch and sulk and withdraw. I'm like some kind of cave-dwelling troglodyte, using my low-light vision to guide others through the darkness, but hissing and shrieking at and running from the light of day. I want people to be happy. But when they actually are, I'm not, because I'm not.

I wish I could just be happy for people instead. I do try! But I feel like it's the kind of thing that becomes increasingly difficult the more depressed you become.

Fundamentally, it's a sort of self-loathing, or rather loathing directed at fate for me being in this position, having this kind of mind. I don't think I'm worthless, or a pile of crap, or things like that, as many with 'low self-esteem' appear to think about themselves. I don't talk internally to myself in third person - "you're a waste of space!" - or anything like that. But I do fully acknowledge that my personality traits and history have programmed me in such a way that I'm poorly equipped to cope with so many things, and that gets to me.

I don't want to be some happy, confident person at all, really. I don't hate being what I am. But I do hate how what I am negatively affects others. It's why I'm always searching for people who understand, who think similarly, who I could support and be supported by. I don't want to be different to how I am now, at least not massively so... I just don't want to drive people away, either.

I talked about this with my friend yesterday (though I think we're getting to the point where she just doesn't want to hear about my misery, just ignores it or tolerates it at best, so I feel I have no confidant, which makes me feel worse and scared, but anyway), and I expressed a deep interest in wanting to improve. I suppose that's what people do before break-ups though, isn't it? "I can change!" Then maybe they do for a bit, before settling back into old habits and everything finally falls apart.

I said that if I'm ever acting moody and she doesn't like it (but she's too nice to simply tell me to stop; my ex was the same), she should tap me on the shoulder. That way, she doesn't need to say anything, but the signal will convey all the information necessary. If I know she's suffering in some way, I snap out of my own self-absorption and go into comforting mode. I feel that rather than trying to dramatically change the way a mind works - which may not be possible - it may be better to learn its habits, its rules, and then to try to devise 'tricks' like this which play into those rules and bring about the results you want. Who knows whether it'll work though. It is a strange idea.

Last year, when we were still getting to know one another, she loved me, felt excited about me, wanted to impress me. I'm not used to that - or at least I'm not used to it being mutual and with the opposite sex - so I felt invigorated by it. Like knowing someone who actually wanted and liked me in some way gave me a reason to live. I suppose feelings like that can never last for very long, and they dissolve as the novelty does, but a big part of me doesn't want to admit that, gets hurt and scared by the feeling that our connection is changing.

She lives with her boyfriend now too, while I have no partner or people to live with, and she's been spending time with his friends recently to play games; on Saturday, she spent twelve straight hours with a group of them. It's frustrating that I can't be a part of it, not because I wouldn't be invited, but because my mind objects. They're all nerdy guys, the sort of people I'm trying to get away from, and she's there with her boyfriend so I don't want to see that, and... ugh. I'm very much responsible for my own loneliness.

I wish I had someone - like she does - to meet people through.
I wish she knew other girls I might meet through her instead of just these nerdy guys.
I wish I could find a partner somehow.
I wish I didn't get so moody.
I wish...

...and so on. All these wishes, hanging happiness on hypotheticals, making these 'if only' conditions that must be met before things improve.

I've read so much though that makes it clear that that's not how it works. You don't become magically happy if you acquire the things you think you want. When I had a partner, I was miserable then, too, because my mind works the way it does. Getting moody. Wishing things to be different rather than accepting them the way they are.

Hmm. Accepting them the way they are.

I have to keep learning this lesson again and again, but I feel that's very much it. Not defeated resignation, but an "oh, okay" to the world, to circumstances. Not getting torn apart by the pull of dreams.

It's a simple thing that I 'already knew' and which was 'obvious', that... The idea of accepting things as they are. But no, I feel it's almost like a minor epiphany for me at this moment; a philosophy to strive towards, to keep in mind when the moodiness rears its ugly head.

Anyway, enough rambling. I will keep that in mind; make a reminder somewhere, perhaps...

(I've just made a new lock screen image for my phone that says "Accept things as they are". I wonder if it'll make a difference.)