Compartmentalization failure

It occurs to me this morning that it would be a lot easier for me emotionally if I were mad at Person X for not supplying me with Y help. That would be something I could unpack and deal with and rationalize and figure out why it was not a good thing.

What I have instead feels like a weird amalgamation of feeling sad that my mother never wanted to take care of me the way a mother should with feeling sad that I can contribute to communities for years and never feel like part of them.

I often think sadly that I would be in a much better position to just take care of all of my own needs if I stopped helping other people so much. If I didn’t drive so far to help people who are falling down in their lives. If I didn’t go clean peoples houses. If I didn’t sit and spend hours helping other people process their emotions. I’d have more to give myself and I don’t think I would feel such an emptiness.

But giving to other people is a lot of how I buy my right to be alive. Not because they care. Because I have to perceive me as having something to give.

This is a problem.

I’m genuinely not mad at Sarah or Taylor or Michelle or or or or or. All of my friends are busy. They are doing things they must do. None of them are short changing me. No one is neglecting me or failing to give me what they should.

Folks like Rose continue to show up in ways that blow my mind. I’m going to spend about a thousand dollars total on baby gear (mostly diapers cause they ain’t cheap) and supplies because she gave me everything else. That was fantastically kind and generous of her. The babysitters mama sends me a text message and we have a 10 minute or so conversation every other week. I’m not completely ignored. Some folks check in periodically over IM. It’s not that I have nothing and no one.

The universe does give to me. I don’t want to make it sound like I get noooooooooooothing. That’s bullshit and not true.

The problem is that I spend a lot of time in my head not being able to talk about most of the things I’m thinking and that feels isolating and alienating and bad.

I’m rarely alone. I have a lovely family and I have good friends. I know it isn’t fair that I complain so much. I know that a lot of people have it worse than me.

My massage therapist told me that when I feel sorry for myself I should just focus on how much better I have it than other people. Uhm. I have never found that to help me even a little. “Other people suffer! Awesome that means I can’t.”

Yeah it doesn’t go like that.

This is part of why I feel so much shame about ever asking for any kind of support. I don’t deserve it because I already have it better than a lot of people.

People were telling me that when I was homeless and starving though. It’s true of my life now… but people have been saying it to me so long and through so much suffering that it doesn’t mean to me what it does to other people.

It is hard feeling like if I can’t get my thoughts and feelings to conform to what other people think I should be thinking and feeling that I should eliminate myself so that people don’t have to deal with me.

I am too much trouble. I’m not worth the effort.

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