Disappointment is a strange thing, because it's based on a standard that you yourself set for someone else. So, even though it is 100% okay to be sad when a person lets you down, it's also kind of your own fault for putting those expectations on them in the first place, oftentimes without their knowledge or consent.
What's up with that? :p
The story is that it was my birthday a little while ago and in the context of other things that had happened and ~life~ being what it is, I was really bummed out that one of my closest friends bailed on our very low-key, super casual hangout at home. I understood her reasons and respected her decision (and she definitely does not need my approval for anything anyway), but it still made me feel rejected and insignificant and unhappy.
At the same time, I did have other lovely people come to spend time with me, so me being a butt wasn't doing anyone any favours at all. At that point in time, though, I was feeling strongly that I keep showing up people who don't show up for me. And then I felt bad for feeling bad (classic), because what the hell, man? I'm not the actual queen.
It's all bullshit, of course. I just wanted to feel sorry for myself for a little while, and mourn the fact that nobody is as perfect as me and can love me the way I want to be loved.
In conclusion, I'm still figuring out what to do with it. It now looks like a weird sense of loneliness that makes me unsure if the people I care about even actually like me. :(
But maybe it's just hormones???
Friday, 4 July 2025
Feeling: Stuck
Listening to: Fury My Master by Upon Stone
Every so often, I am gently reminded that my childhood may have been a bit unorthodox, and that the resulting associations and reactions I now have as an adult might be different from the ones other people have.
For example, it would appear that being shouted at does not make everyone else immediately think that the person shouting wants to hit them. :')
Though I was never actually beaten myself, there were plenty of people around me who were... And I'm realising I might have always subconsciously been afraid of it happening to me, which could explain why I chose to play the role of Very Good Girl.
Anyway, I got loudly shouted at recently and that one fleeting moment had an unexpected visceral effect on me. I really did not like it, and I hated how it made me feel: like I was a child again, angry and (this is the surprising part) scared.
*Jazz hands.
Listening to: Fury My Master by Upon Stone
Every so often, I am gently reminded that my childhood may have been a bit unorthodox, and that the resulting associations and reactions I now have as an adult might be different from the ones other people have.
For example, it would appear that being shouted at does not make everyone else immediately think that the person shouting wants to hit them. :')
Though I was never actually beaten myself, there were plenty of people around me who were... And I'm realising I might have always subconsciously been afraid of it happening to me, which could explain why I chose to play the role of Very Good Girl.
Anyway, I got loudly shouted at recently and that one fleeting moment had an unexpected visceral effect on me. I really did not like it, and I hated how it made me feel: like I was a child again, angry and (this is the surprising part) scared.
*Jazz hands.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)