I Want To Believe
- CW: depression, suicidal thoughts.
- There is a part of me, a very old and deeply-rooted part of me, that believes that I have no worth outside of what I can do for other people. Being there for them, holding space for them, telling them that I believe in them and that they have value and validity — that's all I am.
- Outside of that, says this part of my brain, I'm worthless. If I'm not being productive in a job, supportive of my partners & friends, a value-add to a social group — what's the point of me? Without that I just whittle away my time with frivolous pursuits & distractions.
- And when a modicum of dissatisfaction is brought up regarding my role in a partnership, or a working environment, or even a friendship or social interaction, that part of my brain starts screaming at me that it's been right all along about how truly worthless I am.
- Hell, the only reason I'm still here is because I don't want to cause other people more pain than I already do. I know people see value in me, just in me being myself, and that they believe in me and hate seeing me be hard on myself. They tell me so. Repeatedly.
- I want to believe it, too. But when I try to internalize that, carry that thought from my ear to my rational thinking centers to the part of my brain that retains and believes this stuff, I run headlong into this wall. The wall around that very old part of me.
- It's not that I don't want to believe, or that I am actively making the choice to not believe. I just can't get past that wall. I slam against it & it hurts. I keep trying. I've tried in a lot of ways over the years & I still feel no closer to believing it.
- When I sit down to give it some serious thought, or I'm having (or I try to have) a serious discussion on the subject, there are times when I fall completely silent for minutes on end. It's because I'm trying to get past all of this static in my head.
- I feel like shit; and even in that, it's not for myself, but for the people around me on whom this takes a toll. I feel guilty for making people, especially those close to me, have the same conversation with me over & over again because that wall is so thick.
- "So why bother?" asks that part of my brain. "If you can't get over this or past it, and all it's doing is making the people around you sick of dealing with you to the point they either push you away or walk on eggshells around you, why not just quit entirely?"
- To that I say: Because on top of having a devastating nuclear impact on the people I love, giving up is the coward's way out. Fuck that. I'd rather live with this misery and keep banging against this wall in my head until my metaphorical knuckles bleed than die a fucking coward.
- And even then, it's because I don't want the people I'd leave behind to think of me as a coward.
- I'm just so tired, at this point. Tired of feeling like this, tired of making my friends and loved ones hurt and frustrated, tired of sabotaging myself, tired of always being in my own way, tired of always worrying when the other shoe is going to drop. I'm even tired of talking about it. Just typing this out is exhausting.
- Nobody else can do this for me. My friends and loved ones, bless them, do their best to try & support me. They remind me of who they see me to be. They tell me to stop beating myself up. They encourage me to take care of myself, to eat, even to take a step back & work on myself.
- But in the end, in order to change this, I have to do the work. Nobody else could carry the Ring for Frodo. Nobody else but Furiosa could have helped the Wives escape. Nobody but Decibel Jones could represent Earth at the Metagalactic Grand Prix. This is my task.
- In order to complete it, I need to believe in myself enough to follow through on the changes I say I want to make. Which brings me back to the part of me that, for decades on end, keeps saying there's no reason to believe in myself, and presents many facts from my past supporting it.
- It goes around and around and around in my head like that, all day, every day. That wheel just won't stop turning.
- I want to find a way to break that fucking wheel. And, at this point, after getting nauseated and bullied by it for so long, I have no idea of how or where to start.
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