know me? (Patreon)


august 20 2021

my anxiety primarily comes from shame. fear. shame. fear. shame. one in the same? i get soo much anxiety around social interactions. especially with new people. especially with new people who i think i will like a lot and i want them to like me too. but not that i just want them to like me, i want them to really KNOW me…

and i actually think if they truly knew me then they would like me. and then my anxiety gets in the way because i so badly want to be known that it has me questioning everything i think and say around them. how do i show them who i am, who i really am? my anxiety freezes me and gets in the way of them really being able to know me. i can’t think straight. i start questioning who i really am.

i can't even think about what things i like to talk about or what my true reaction to certain things would be.

i so badly want to be myself, i so badly want to be who i really am. i want them to know who i really am. and i know that the best relationships (and to me the only relationships worthwhile) are the relationships where you are completely yourself. every aspect of yourself. and the thing is, these types of relationships take time. so. much. time.

no one will know me in a day, in a date, in a week, even a year of being in relationship with me. and i think that is the part that really gets to me. that’s the part that i hate.

this idea that every single person in my life, even the people that know me the best see me different than i see myself. does anyone truly know me? or do they know me and see me more clearly than i could ever see myself? both of those are so scary. so terrifying.

and then i think about instagram, and just yesterday i was having a bit of an anxiety attack, wondering why the fuck i share the things i share. wondering how people are actually perceiving it all. fearing that they are all perceiving me in a way that i don’t perceive myself. but like, they definitely are, and there is really know way around it.



i think fighting this fear and this anxiety is what draws me to share. i think sharing these things is so important, connection in this way, through things that are so scary. i think the more i share these things that are so scary and hard to talk about and see people through the closer i could be to being known. but then the more i share the more i wonder if the picture people are getting of me is completely inaccurate.

but...

i get a lot of fear around wondering if i am lying to myself. honesty is the most important virtue to me. in myself and in my relationships and i get so scared that i am actually being dishonest and not even letting myself acknowledge it. i think that is a fear though BECAUSE honesty is so important to me, and i want to keep checking myself and questioning what i am putting out into the world, whether through a post or in a face to face conversation, and why. and then i want to be the kind of person who people feel they can approach me with ‘constructive feedback’ and i hear it and i actually think about what they are saying. then this gets a little too far when random people are messaging me criticism and i wonder “is what they are saying true?”.

but of course this isn’t the kind of relationship where i should be giving too much weight to what they are saying. all they see is me online, which is less than 1% of who i am. i find my anxiety to sometimes be a real gift, in allowing me to see so clearly the things that scare me and fight against it. but that anxiety causes a lot of turmoil in my life in all areas and makes me question my reality and the goodness of who i am too much.



i have this fear that i think i am honest and i think i am genuine and i think i treat people well in the way that my father thought about himself, but seemed like he couldn't hear at all the ways that wasn't true, or couldn't hear or want to change the ways he was hurting people. i get so scared that i am him.

but i do believe i am open to change and open to hearing how i have hurt the people i am closest to. but there is this constant battle in my head of “am i crazy?” and i can’t think straight. i question my sanity so often, it’s exhausting. but the truth is… how the fuck does one know if they are sane or insane? if i was crazy, how would i ever know? do people that are crazy know they are crazy?

i wonder if part of not being my father or not becoming the worst parts of my father is to constantly be analyzing myself and my motives and getting feedback from others?

i also realized through therapy that possibly a lot of the reasons i question myself and my sanity is because i was groomed into feeling like i couldn't trust myself. groomed into thinking that my fear, and what i felt in my body when i was scared or uncomfortable for so long was not true. made to distrust my body and my physical reactions to things… i think a lot of women (if not most) (but also most children of all sexes as well) are trained this just as a part of growing up in the society that we live in.

we are taught that those in charge, whether it be caregivers or teachers or pastors or relatives, know what is best for us, whether that be how much we should eat, how we should dress, what sports we should play, when we need alone time, when we need connection or what physical touch feels appropriate or inappropriate. we are taught to not speak up or talk back when something feels wrong to us. we are taught that we actually don’t know what is best or healthy for ourselves.

and i think i noticed this so so much in my father on another level that could be defined as psychological abuse. of course i didn’t really notice it as not okay until i was much older. but these things and all the ways people older than me in general didn't respect my emotions and boundaries or didn't even care to notice my boundaries in my body are the reasons why i still question my sanity.

i often feel like i need outside reassurance for all of my decisions. if someone else could tell me that i am not crazy then i believe that i am not crazy. i notice that this gets much worse on my period, and even worse on my period if i smoke. which i am on my period and i smoked last night. it made for a difficult day to be posting something so vulnerable for the world to read. but it also is something that is kinda nice, haha, as ridiculous as that sounds.

it’s nice because for the most part when i am having an anxiety attack i have noticed that everything i am feeling in body is usually there when i am feeling anxious, but now with the attack it is like i can think so clearly about the specifics of what i am scared of. and when i am able to talk about exactly what i am feeling as i am feeling it out loud with someone, whether that be gideon, or on marco polo with a friend, it helps me to process and think about it and get it out. having someone in person is best because gideon can help reassure me and ask the right questions that lead me to see that i am not crazy, i am not malicious, i am not just seeking attention or lying.

i am sharing because something in me feels drawn to be honest about my experience, especially experience that isn’t talked about as often. because i want and need these things to be something that is more normal to talk about, more normal to get into such emotions with people. i think that is what makes life worth living, connection in such a deep and personal and intimate way that makes us all feel more known and seen and human.

....and the thing is, there is no answer to this except learning to be okay with the fact that we will all be constantly re learning the people in our life and finding out new wild things about them. constantly discovering everyone. and it is actually so beautiful. that no one can just know you and that’s that. you and i are constantly worth rediscovering again and again.