I can hardly write about this without disliking myself on a certain level.
All my life I have struggled against the belief that what ails me is a moral/spiritual failure, some complex mixture of the seven deadly sins.
Or an emotional disorder that is within my power to fix, if I would quit hanging on so stubbornly to my self-centered beliefs.
Sometimes I simply feel like a pain in the ass to everyone I interact with. The more closely you have to interact with me, the more of a pain in the ass I fear I will become.
My best defense against all of the above is to deny there is anything at all wrong with me, but that’s only possible if I don’t leave my house and don’t interact with people outside my small circle of loved ones.
Out in the big world I have been labeled:
- Anal retentive
- Anxiety ridden
- High maintenance
The healthy part of my self esteem feels compelled to interject now and inform you (and remind me) that I have done bold things!
I have jumped off cliffs and repelled down canyons. I went scuba diving at night, 100 feet below the surface. I gave birth twice with no anesthesia! I have handled snakes and rodents. I have spoken in public. I have spoken against popular ideas, to hostile audiences – in public. I have made bold leaps of faith in relationships and in business.
My inability to be “normal” is not for lack of heroic effort.