I get that. My experience isn't as extreme as yours, but I was very skilled at masking. I still am and apart from my husband, there's no one I consider close enough to open up to. Apparently, I've learned since people in school thought I was popular. They don't realise that none of those people knew me and I'm not in contact with any of them anymore.
I guess the main difference is I like being alone and I like solitude. But unfortunately no matter what I like, human brains don't like it and I have to force social interactions, no matter how shallow, to keep the depression away.
I can understand this. It doesn't matter how charismatic someone seems on the outside; they can be faking it and be someone entirely different inside. My brother was like that. Very popular, but I knew he was masking to almost everyone around him.
It sounds like you have found a balance, though, between what you want and what you need. It definitely is a struggle trying to find the needs vs wants, especially when needs go against what we want.
There is so much in this entry that I relate to: being around people supposedly close to me that didn't see the *real* me, only being seen as a religious person(my mom was a minister), being made fun of but being told that was just how people made friends and things weren't "that" serious, not being invited to hang out with people but not feeling comfortable enough to let anyone into my personal life because things at home felt so difficult and different from what anyone else was dealing with.
But first and foremost, I am glad you're still here and alive, Holly. I am glad you're sharing your real lived experiences and writing with us. This piece has touched me because I definitely felt alone on and off through my adolescent years and am climbing out of that murkiness in adulthood.
Thank you. It sounds like we had a similar upbringing, and I'm glad that you are climbing out of that now. It's such a difficult process after so much isolation.
You also made me realize I didn't touch on it in the post, but yes, the sort of fear and embarrassment or just hesitation of not wanting to speak... it wasn't just a fear of being punished, although for me, that was most of it. It was also realizing my experiences were different and difficult, and how could I ever tell people I was worried about this horrific thing while they're talking about more normal teenage things? And then, not being able to relate to those teenage things because all my mind can think about is everything else that I couldn't talk about.
Yes! Like what would I have to contribute to a conversation about cable TV shows or sneaking out to go to clubs or whatever when I was busy helping my mom see about my dad? Just felt that nobody would be able to relate.
Thank you for having the courage to tell your truth. I admire you so much. So many of us just suffer in silence. I experienced many of the same things you did, which makes me feel sad for both of us. Depression is real and still very much a part of my daily life. I do not feel comfortable sharing my detailed experiences in a public forum, but perhaps we can discuss sometime. I believe the world is a better place because you are in it - I am so thankful you are here and healing. ♥️
I get that. My experience isn't as extreme as yours, but I was very skilled at masking. I still am and apart from my husband, there's no one I consider close enough to open up to. Apparently, I've learned since people in school thought I was popular. They don't realise that none of those people knew me and I'm not in contact with any of them anymore.
I guess the main difference is I like being alone and I like solitude. But unfortunately no matter what I like, human brains don't like it and I have to force social interactions, no matter how shallow, to keep the depression away.
I can understand this. It doesn't matter how charismatic someone seems on the outside; they can be faking it and be someone entirely different inside. My brother was like that. Very popular, but I knew he was masking to almost everyone around him.
It sounds like you have found a balance, though, between what you want and what you need. It definitely is a struggle trying to find the needs vs wants, especially when needs go against what we want.
There is so much in this entry that I relate to: being around people supposedly close to me that didn't see the *real* me, only being seen as a religious person(my mom was a minister), being made fun of but being told that was just how people made friends and things weren't "that" serious, not being invited to hang out with people but not feeling comfortable enough to let anyone into my personal life because things at home felt so difficult and different from what anyone else was dealing with.
But first and foremost, I am glad you're still here and alive, Holly. I am glad you're sharing your real lived experiences and writing with us. This piece has touched me because I definitely felt alone on and off through my adolescent years and am climbing out of that murkiness in adulthood.
Thank you. It sounds like we had a similar upbringing, and I'm glad that you are climbing out of that now. It's such a difficult process after so much isolation.
You also made me realize I didn't touch on it in the post, but yes, the sort of fear and embarrassment or just hesitation of not wanting to speak... it wasn't just a fear of being punished, although for me, that was most of it. It was also realizing my experiences were different and difficult, and how could I ever tell people I was worried about this horrific thing while they're talking about more normal teenage things? And then, not being able to relate to those teenage things because all my mind can think about is everything else that I couldn't talk about.
Yes! Like what would I have to contribute to a conversation about cable TV shows or sneaking out to go to clubs or whatever when I was busy helping my mom see about my dad? Just felt that nobody would be able to relate.
(I erased a couple paragraphs, it wasn't needed)
I really wanted to just sit with you, so... well, I will shut up and do that.
Thank you. Simple things hit hard. This means a lot to me.
Thank you for having the courage to tell your truth. I admire you so much. So many of us just suffer in silence. I experienced many of the same things you did, which makes me feel sad for both of us. Depression is real and still very much a part of my daily life. I do not feel comfortable sharing my detailed experiences in a public forum, but perhaps we can discuss sometime. I believe the world is a better place because you are in it - I am so thankful you are here and healing. ♥️