Perhaps I AM gaslighting myself?
For the 25 years I have been alive, I have lived my life outside of myself. Living in the moment is something that has never been easy for me for a multitude of reasons. The most important of those, in my opinion, for the topic I’m writing about today is that I used escapism as a defense mechanism for many of my formative years. Being an imaginative kid really carried me through the circumstances I had to deal with in my adolescence. Solo role playing as a child morphed into maladaptive daydreaming for hours and hours at a time. I was easily sucked into the internet, where I spent all of my waking hours as a way to distract from what was happening around me. The life events I have been through are a completely different story from what I’m trying to get at today, but it’s important to recognize my patterns of behavior, of survival, for me to start guessing why it is that I behave the way that I do.
I have had a difficult couple of months (arguments with close family, both of my cats had medical issues , my best friend moved to a different state, the world around all of us is burning both figuratively and literally) and so it isn’t surprising that my ability to analyze my feelings has not been the best. I physically could not do it. I would get home, doom-scroll, and sleep. Rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat. But last week my cats were both cleared of their health issues, the arguments got set aside (I can hold a grudge but whatever), my friend settled in to her new home nicely, and I just got a chance to breathe. I guess. I had a moment of lucidity a day or two ago while I was in the shower. A moment of clarity, if you will. An amalgamation of different conversations from previous days rushed into my head and I realized I’m likely lying to myself to get by.
As an example, I told someone in a voice message that I didn’t mind living with my family. Even though it was a something I said in passing while talking about something else, they commented on it saying they were glad I felt that way. I read that message and I thought, “I don’t like living like this, though.” So why did I say that? I have very severe gripes with my current living situation, and yet I dismissed all of them in a passing comment. The reason I have even started saying “I don’t mind living here” is because I have been presented with the chance to move for a while. Recently, the opportunity was offered to me again and it felt more real this time. More doable, maybe? And here’s the thing, when I look into the near future and imagine myself moving it isn’t like I would be putting myself at risk in any way. I would be going into a home with multiple people that love me and want what’s best for me, and i them. They would not let me or my cats go hungry or without a roof. HOWEVER, it would mean living away from my direct family for the first time in my life, and that makes me sad. Truly, that thought breaks my heart. I also have crazy deep insecurities because of the fact I can barely hold my mental state together while working a part-time job. I can’t imagine working full-time. In fact, it would destroy my mental health most likely. I don’t have career goals or any life plans past my two week work schedule. Of course, I’m surrounded by drive people that know the kind of job they could do for the rest of their lives (or at least for the foreseeable future) and I simply cannot relate. I’m terrified of debt, I get anxiety when I even think of driving a car. I struggle a lot, and the thought of moving out on my own without the financial and emotional support of my family is terrifying. On the other hand, the people that love me and want to live with me know about my mental state and want me there, part-time job and all. Like I said these people would never let me suffer, but my insecurities get the better of me and I start saying, “It’s not that bad here.”
Here’s another one.
I was having a conversation about exercise with a coworker. I told her I do not like working out, that the process of it grosses me out. I don’t like sweating, I don’t like feeling hot, I don’t like feeling pain. These are things that I say pretty often in my day to day. I am not sporty in the sense that you will not see me lifting weights at the gym. I love a hike, though! Even so, I realized sometime last November that I was going to be in my mid-twenties this year! “I should start working out more regularly unless I want to move like I’m 80 at 30 years old.” I’ve been aiming for once a week at LEAST (this is the level of hatred we’re talking about, I’m essentially sedentary unless iI’m at work or having fun on vacation or something), but I will still put it off. I tell myself it’s because I hate it and yet… after not doing it for a while I’ll think ”I should work out, I’m feeling kinda stiff” HMMMMM SUSPICIOUS
I’m not consistent because I start feeling embarrassed of myself. Even at home I’m ashamed, how fucked is that? I feel like I’m being watched and moving around feels silly and I don’t like being inflexible. But instead of addressing those insecurities my brain brushes them off and claims I don’t like it flat out. I think about working out lots, mostly that I should do it more often. It feels good! Maybe, just maybe, I DO like exercise but the insecurities I have about my body and being perceived are making me gaslight myself into not doing it more.
Anyways, that’s the realization I had in the shower the other night. I don’t know if I’m actually correct about any of this btw but it makes sense to me. I don’t know how to change this other than “doing it scared” which is easier said than done.\
Also! I wanted to turn back to the first few paragraphs and mention something about how I live outside of myself. I don’t think this is too normal either, but whenever I‘m living my life I don’t feel like I’m my own body. It kinda feels like the real me is itty bitty and is living inside of my body’s head looking at my movements through a screen. Obviously I don't see my life as if it’s framed on a TV, that would be a medical emergency, but when I control my real body it kind of feels the same as when I control a body in a video game. Does that make sense to anyone else? Like, I am me and I feel things but most of the time my consciousness is floating up just above my physical head. If I’m having a bad day it feels like I am deep in the back of my physical skull and I’m experiencing reality through a sheer sheet or something. Very strange.
That’s all the words I can get out of me for right now. Thank you for reading my word vomit, especially if you made it all the way to this line hehe.