Is it Just Me?

I've realized recently a few things about me and compliments.

1. If I receive a compliment, I assume they are saying it to be nice, because they feel obligated. I think this partially stems from having a few friends who have to be very deliberate in complimenting me, because they don't naturally praise people a lot for one reason or another.

2. I do not find it to be a compliment when people tell me that I have improved, or that I have grown. At least not professionally. Because, um, excuse me, just because you are just now realizing that I rock at my job doesn't mean that I wasn't rocking before. Also, what big flaw did I have that was so terrible at the beginning.

It's funny that my brain works that way, because when I tell other people they have grown, and how proud I am, I do consider it a compliment. I think the reason I don't consider it a compliment for myself is that I have kind of these crazy perfectionist standards for myself, and if you noticed the flaw, and then I improved, I'm focused on how mortified I am that I had such a blatant flaw. Where did that come from? I never thought of myself as a perfectionist. I know that this urge is especially strong where friends are in the picture. Because I have to be perfect so my friends will love me. Because if I irritate and upset them they will go away. Since I seem to keep losing long time friends, I'm having a hard time dissuading myself of this theory now that I've identified that it is an underlying motive for me. Life-long friendships seem to be a figment of my imagination. Everyone that I think i have a lifelong bond with either grows out of me, or I have to distance myself from them for the sake of emotional health--mine and theirs. My hope is that they will come back. But current friends tell me I should move on and not hope that. Because apparently that hope is not healthy?

I also realized the other night that I feel like my friends schedule time with me now out of pity or obligation. They are all so busy. They have other friends who are their best friends. They have significant others. It is an effort for them to schedule me in. Why am I not naturally just a part of any one's life? It didn't used to feel this hard. And I feel so unwanted. The thing is, I have plenty of friends who want to spend time with me, who text me and message me and check in with me and try to slow their frantic pace to connect with me. I know this. But I feel so alone. I've lost the people who would term me Best. That's not totally true. I do still have my BFF. But she lives 4 or 5 hours away. And she has a life. And I can hardly get hold of her on the phone, let alone see her. And I"m not a part of her everyday life anymore. I don't know if any of her friends have ever even heard my name.

Back to the compliment thing: I was compliment several times tonight. But the compliments were so conditional. I was better than I had been. I was frustrating but we had learned together. I must be really difficult. Others got glowing compliments from the same lips. I don't merit that, and I don't know if it's because sometimes it's harder to expose deeper appreciation of those we are closer to, or if it is because I have not grown to their satisfaction, and do not merit glowing praise because, despite how I bust my butt, I'm not quite at that level. And yet the compliment given was given with a mindfulness that I was not feeling validated and longed to hear that I was appreciated in a meaningful way. Why, when people know you really need to hear, is it harder for said people to give meaningful praise? What is that stubbornness? Is there something so wrong with me wanting to know that those I most respect and love respect and love me as much in return. Apparently the feeling isn't mutual?

Shame on ME

I guess the fact that I haven't blogged in here for over 20 days is a good sign, since I'm generally drawn to blog on here when I've having a tough time and am trying to process feelings. Trying to do the whole self care thing. Feel like doody tonight.

One thing I have realized about myself is that although I've been really good about talking about my feelings and looking for honest feedback about how I'm dealing with said feelings, there is a little hiccup. Once I've discovered that something I am feeling is a little wack-a-doodle, meaning that it's not the healthy response and not "normal," after a while I try to hide the fact that I am having said feeling from those same close trusted friends who helped me determine I'm over-reacting. Because I know how sad and insecure I really do look, and that the fact that I am insecure is evident to people. For example, Coolgirl got a new employee that will meet some needs I've been helping meet in the workplace. I helped hire her. I loved her in the interview, and I still do. But now that she's started, I'm having a knee-jerk panic-y reaction, because she is (and will continue to be) taking up her time, and therefore I am feeling like I have been replaced because I don't serve a function for her, and if she doesn't need me she's going to leave. As much as I can now identify that this is a central issue for me, I still continue to panic. I can't seem to help myself. I do calm myself down in what I suppose is a relatively short amount of time, since I can identify what the feeling is. But meanwhile I get all cranky and spastic and throw up walls and alienate Coolgirl, who has no idea what my damage is.

Normally Coolgirl would get out of me what I am freaking out about, but this week she's been so busy that it's been pretty easy to a) hide some of my freaking outedness, and b) avoid getting called on it, because we have not spent time alone, and she doesn't make time for me outside of work anymore, so calling me after work to check in doesn't even occur to her. She puts me out of her head as part of work when she leaves the office now. Which is the other part of my freak-out. That I don't factor into her personal life. That's not to say that we don't have a personal relationship, or that I don't believe and trust that she loves me like a close friend. It's just I'm in the work compartment of her life. She's too enamored with her not-so-new love interest to consider making me part of her outside of work life, because said Love Interest calls the shots on the agenda.

So I'm hiding these five-year-old gut reaction feelings; squirreling them away from view with an underlying feeling of shame. Shame for being so insecure. Insecure is not attractive. People don't like an insecure friend. That leads to clingy. Which leads to people running far, far away. And in this state of shame and insecurity, I don't see any way out. Talking about it would be stupid. She's not doing anything wrong, and she can't say anything she hasn't said the last 20 times we've had this conversation about my abandonment issues. And telling other people just makes me look stupid in their eyes, and they don't know what to tell me either, except that my expectations are too high, and my feelings shouldn't be hurt given the amount of time we spend together. These things I know. My rational part totally gets it. So I just want to keep hiding it and hoping nobody notices. It feels like the dream I have about showing up to High School naked. Except worse. Because it's like showing up to work naked. For reals. And not knowing how to fix it, and so hiding under my desk all day. That's how it feels.