I hit a roadblock of realization. I call it a roadblock and not a revelation or lesson because I feel like it’s completely stopped me in my tracks.
In trying to wrap my head around and get over a recent breakup, I realized that despite all the hours of therapy, the years of putting what I learned into action, and my constant and borderline obsessive self-assessment, that I’m not where I need to be in terms of effective and honest communication. I don’t always say everything I need to or everything I want to and it leaves my relationships rife with miscommunications, misunderstandings, and plenty of unsaid and unaddressed needs and issues that don’t get solved. But I know why I do this.
A. I have abandonment issues. I’m pretty open and upfront about this and I’ve worked hard to understand it and push past the fear of rejection for just being who I am. But I doubt I’ll ever fully unlearn that schema. It’s especially difficult when you factor in that a lot what I fear being rejected for are the symptoms of my mental illness and not just a characteristic/personality trait that can be “fixed.”
There are a lot of behaviors that get associated with carelessness, disinterest, and dismissiveness that really just stems from how my brain works. I forget A LOT of conversations, events, special dates, likes/dislikes, and just simple personal details about loved ones. It’s not that I don’t care or don’t listen, it’s just that they don’t stick. It’s like throwing tennis balls at a velcro wall. Some will stick to the wall, but some will bounce off and you just have to try and throw it against the wall again. However, I am deeply embarrassed to ask over and over about things I should know and remember. Also, most people don’t seem to like having to repeat themselves, especially about things that are important to them. So sometimes I don’t ask and hope for the best.
B. I don’t talk that much. Or rather, I don’t talk at the same pace or rhythm as my thoughts. When conversing with people, I am doing multiple cognitive processes at a rapid pace and some stuff falls through the cracks. I struggle to find the right words and put them together in a coherent and logical way while my thoughts jump from topic to topic. I’m devoting a lot of energy to actually listening to understand, while also reeling my mind back in from wandering, processing what you are actually saying, and connecting dots. One of two things typically come from this. I talk over/finish the sentences of others because I’ve learned that if I don’t say what I’m thinking at that moment then it will be lost to the ether. Or I’ve taken so long to process your words that when I do know what I want to say, it’s too late. For many conversations, once the moment has passed for a response it’s gone for good. I have some friends that process the same way and while we understand each other, from the outside looking in it seems chaotic, rude, and aggressive. So more often than not, I opt to not say much at all.
C. Fighting my brain, especially during depressive episodes, is exhausting. So exhausting that actually speaking feels like a Herculean effort and is sometimes actually painful. When I first developed bipolar disorder I became “selectively mute” but I wrote a lot of letters. However, as an adult, how do you tell someone that you don’t have the spoons to speak to them, or anyone else, but that texting is okay without it raising red flags? So I try to push through, but my tone and demeanor can’t hide just how much I’d rather not be speaking out loud. Also, who wants to read a four-page letter worth of text messages? TL:DR (Too Long: Didn’t Read) is just one response I fear.
D. I’m a sea of unspoken emotions at any given time, so when I am speaking to people, I tend not to speak about myself or for long stretches of time because I am in fear of the “flood gates opening.” I’m a crier. I always have been. But years of being punished and bullied for it showed me that I need to hide that about myself. So I steer conversations away from talking about myself which can come of as trying to hide something or not trusting the other person. I do trust people, but I also don’t want anyone to see me cry. It’s not just a fear of being vulnerable, but I don’t want to be viewed as manipulative because everything makes me want to cry or deal with how my tears make others uncomfortable, not just myself. So I clam up about what I feel, what I need, and what I want because it’s the only way to prevent the inevitable flow of tears.
E. I misread a lot of social situations. I’ve never been diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, but I do occasionally find it difficult to “read the room,” and when it does happen, it’s bad. I can’t always discern when someone is joking or being serious and it’s a terrible feeling when someone wasn’t joking and you took it as one. Not everybody will accept that you didn’t realize they were being serious because, to them, it was obvious that they were. So what do you do with that? Especially if your misinterpretation has hurt their feelings and apologizing doesn’t suffice.
F. I probably overthink what I do need to say that I end up censoring myself in fear of upsetting someone else. I’m not a particularly cruel person or someone who is “brutally honest.” Especially when it comes to my loved ones, but even with that, I still try my best to deliver what I say in an easily digestible way. The rub is though, that everything can’t be put into flowery language. What do I do in that instance? I silence myself.
I fear that my inability, up to this point, to get any better at communicating will keep me at a distance from the people I want to be the closest to. Moreover, I can’t get past blaming myself for not trying harder than I already have. Just knowing what’s wrong isn’t enough. Especially if you can’t fix it.
