You Matter Too

Lately I have been worrying about being a bad friend, a bad girlfriend, and feeling like I could be doing more at my job. I feel weird even typing that, because I don’t fully believe it. I think that despite everything I am going through, I have been doing my best. I have been good at staying connected with others. I don’t have proof that I am not doing enough, I am just afraid of it. I am afraid, because I don’t want the focus on me. I don’t want others to get tired of me. I don’t want to burden others. I don’t want it to look like I’m not trying my best.

I worry I will be seen as self-centered or selfish or inconsiderate. Where does this worry come from? There have too many times I have put others needs first, and learned that people didn’t like when I started to put myself first. I was made to feel like it was wrong to turn inward, listen to my gut, understand what I think and feel. This is an incredibly difficult time of year, and I am experiencing a range of emotions as I set boundaries and express my needs.

I have cried every day for the past 10 days. Christmas is around the corner, and my heart has been hurting from emotional pain. I am flooded. I am exhausted. I am dissociated. My eyes can’t focus, and my memory isn’t clear. As much as I want to give and give to others, I have limited energy to give to myself.

Sometimes I hear that people don’t want to burden me by sharing their struggles, because they know what I am going through. Though I also worry about being a burden, I always reassure people that it doesn’t work that way. Just because I am hurting does not mean they cannot hurt too. My hurt is not more or worse, and certainly not more important. Two people can support each other no matter how much “battery life” they have. Two people can be hurting and be present for each other in their hurt. It’s okay to “take turns” listening and offering support. It’s okay to just simply be there. Nobody should feel alone.

What is important is being honest about where you are at. I will typically apologize if I’m a bit dissociated and have trouble with eye contact. I will tell someone when I want to hear what is going on with them, but am not in a space to take it in at that very moment. Last week, a coworker came into my office and noticed I wasn’t myself. They asked if I wanted some space. I usually say “no”, I usually force a smile and sweetly say “it’s fine”. This time I said “yes please” and reassured them it was not personal. They were not offended one bit. They thanked me for being comfortable enough to set a boundary with them. Communication is key. It’s not easy being open, but I know it eliminates the possibility for people to wonder what’s going on, or wonder if it’s them.

A guilt I have had since I moved away from home, and since graduating from college, is that I am not always good at checking in with people I hardly see. There are friends I haven’t seen in months, or years, and I feel guilty when I only text them a “happy birthday” or comment on an Instagram post. It isn’t that I don’t care or don’t think about reaching out. I realize I have lived much of my life surviving. Trauma exists even after the events occurred. Even when I no longer need to “survive” I still feel as though I do. I face each day to get to the next. Days go by, weeks go by, I go to therapy, I go to work, I see Aly, and sometimes guilt sets in when I realize the time that has passed. I worry that if I don’t check on others they will think I don’t care. I fear losing connections.

I take a moment and recognize that it goes both ways. If people wanted to chat, wanted to hangout, wanted my support, they would also reach out. Just as my life is busy, so many others are experiencing the same. It doesn’t mean people don’t care. Life is just hard. I can’t predict what is going on in others lives, just as they cannot predict mine. I write about a lot, but certainly not everything. I am very much aware that just because I write my story, doesn’t mean my story is the only story out there. Everyone has a story with peaks and valleys, whether they share it or not.

I often feel alone. I feel alone, because I live alone. I feel alone with my feelings. I feel alone when I cannot relate to how others are presenting. I feel alone, because of those friends I haven’t seen in months or years. Writing has been healing for me, but it has also helped with connection. Maybe it will be months or years, but then I will exchange a few messages with someone, and it feels as though nothing has changed. I tend to forget all of the people I have, when I only see who lives nearby, or is in my immediate circle. I am really lucky to know so many true friends. I guess sometimes I need to stop worrying about being a bother, and instead reach out, and receive those reminders from time to time that people are still there.

As horrible as right now feels, lately I have been talking to several people going through similar things as me. I have even reconnected with friends who live across the country. Many of my friends are navigating holiday blues, family, or grief. We are checking in on each other each day, even if it’s just a brief text. Having extra support is the best thing I have right now. I am proud of myself for utilizing it. As I take care of myself this holiday season and remind myself that I matter, I am making sure I remind others that they matter too.