After being pretty emotionally stirred up for a few days and really thinking about myself, my behavior and how I interact with people (strong infj) I have come to a point that while things are uncomfortable right now in the long run it will be so much better because of the way it all transpired. This is a really encouraging feeling. I hope I hold onto it.
God forbid I actually enjoy being by myself. I mean who does that; actually enjoying alone time?
Or at school you might have been prodded to come “out of your shell” - that noxious expression which fails to appreciate that some animals naturally carry shelter everywhere they go, and that some humans are just the same.
I want someone* to care about me genuinely, not for what I can give them. Not sure I’ll find that.
*not talking about the context of friends, I have a bunch of awesome friends who care deeply for me and I know I’m lucky.
I’m a petulant little brat.
I’m working on it.
So I’m one of the many people who has/had a shitty dad. It’s ridiculous how many of us there are. Millennials, let’s step it up, okay? Let’s be a generation that works really hard to be good parents.
But anyway, I decided to go back to counseling because I’ve been making some pretty self destructive choices lately and I need to stop but am past a point that I can do it by myself. I’m not like doing drugs or anything like that but i am slowly destroying myself with other things. In my session yesterday we talked about my dad and how issues that I have refused to admit are still issues are manifesting in my poor life decisions. I have “daddy issues” to a tee, whether I’ll acknowledge them or not. I won’t get into my poor life decisions primarily because I don’t think anyone will actually read this and if they do I don’t think anyone will care, this is more for personal reference I guess. But like shit sucks and I kind of forgot about it. I forgot about the fact that my father has never told me he loves me and meant it, the words are so rarely muttered anyway. I forgot that he’s never been encouraging or told me I’m beautiful or a good person. I forgot that he was never part of my support system. So all of this came up in my session yesterday. Things I’ve compartmentalized and tucked away in my brain. Things that just don’t cross my mind. But they came up, and it was bad. I forgot how angry I was/am. I forgot how lonely it is. I forgot that I hate my dad for everything he’s done and everything he didnt come through with.
So I saw my dad last night, just in passing. And I was so mad and hurt and ready to place blame on him. But I didn’t have an immediate reason to be mean so I was silent. It was awkward. I know that recovery is hard and painful and full if hard choices. I know that it’s worth it but fuck it is so hard.
The useless days will add up to something. The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing in your journal. The long meandering walks. The hours reading poetry and story collections and novels and dead people’s diaries and wondering about sex and God and whether you should shave under your arms or not. These things are your becoming.