This will probably be my hardest post yet. I had a really rough time trying to figure out what Willfulness even is. Part of my willfulness is avoidance. I’m super good at avoiding things, which is not something I want to be super good at. Another aspect of my willfulness is digging my heels and basically giving the middle finger and saying fuck you, pal, I ain’t doing shit! I am a strong independent black woman who don’t need no man! Which doesn’t even make sense seeing as I’m not a black woman. I get really set in my ways and get scared of changing, I guess.
When I was in therapy today, we were discussing some of the things Exacerbating Ex did and I decided I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. So I very not-so-tactfully started off on rabbit trails. When she tried to steer me back to the topic at hand, I just started being contrarian. We had been having a lovely discussion about my blog and the progress I have been making and I just couldn’t open up about some of the shit Exacerbating Ex pulled on me. I shouldn’t say that I “couldn’t”, rather, I “wouldn’t”. It felt as though I had put a heavy box around my heart. I wanted to tell her things, but I didn’t want to at the same time. The last few months in therapy, I’ve kept asking myself what was holding me back from opening up to my therapist, and the only thing I can come up with is that I don’t want her to think poorly of me.
My therapist, Charon, is nothing like that though. I think she genuinely feels bad for me. I mean, sometimes it’s like I can’t even be honest with myself. I keep blaming myself for things that have happened to me, which is kind of silly. I can’t control what other people do. I can only control what I do. I can’t control what other people think either. So my attempts at hiding things that trouble me and avoiding things that make me uncomfortable just because I want to prevent any negative feelings that others may have. I mean, fuck that noise, right? I’m only human. I’m a person with real feelings and real thoughts and real dreams and I don’t share those with others because I want them to have opinion based on only the happy positive things? That’s not how life works. I need to be open about the good. I need to be open about the bad. I may not need to get all deep into the nitty gritty part of the bad, but I shouldn’t be ashamed that this shit has happened.
I’m not being very Authentic when I am Willful. Somehow, I don’t see how those two can co-exist. And if I’m not being Authentic, I’m not being Self-Compassionate. And that sets me back to that dark place of weeds in my Garden of Self. I put myself into this tiny little box in my tiny little corner of the world and hope nothing bad happens to me if I please everyone. If I keep doing that, if I keep ignoring the bad things that happen and lock them up deep inside, they can only fester and grow a life of their own. I think it was the Buddha who once said that holding onto anger is like drinking poison and hoping your enemy dies. By holding onto my shame and my fears and my sadness and my insecurities and my anxieties, I’m holding poisoning myself and keeping myself from growing as a person. I mean, I share my happiness with others. I love seeing others smile when I cheer them up. I love hearing laughs and I love making other people’s darkness disappear, but rarely do I ever allow others to even glimpse at the darkness I have.
I find it very hard to open up because I don’t want others to feel unhappy, I guess. Even as I’m typing this, I’m trying not to cry. Because I’m unhappy. I feel very sad and guilty and ashamed that I haven’t been open. I don’t want to be like this. The whole point of me doing the Mr. Oinkers Theory is so I can open up to someone who can’t even judge me. I haven’t voiced any of my negatives that are the deep deep shit that festers inside my heart. I can’t tell an imaginary pig. I think that says a lot about how locked up I’ve made myself. I often feel like an outsider whenever I’m around people. I feel like a fraud, like everyone else is so much more mature and I’m sitting here like that kid in 10th grade who still ate paste.
Believe it or not, reader, I have a very hard time vocalizing shit sometimes. Often, the only reason I can talk to Kuma-chan is because I can type up my words and my tongue won’t trip over them. Kind of like what I’m doing here. When I get too many pent up emotions, I either cut to release them, as a sort of spaz thing, or I spaz or go running. I really want to tell people how I feel. I have a hard time identifying what I’m feeling. Half the time, I just want to go “I feel like *random word that isn’t an emotion* and so I want to spaz”. Honestly, if I let myself just be Authentic Self, I can identify what I’m feeling more based on what my hands are doing. When I’m home alone, it’s a lot easier to go “Yeah, I’m spazzing, get over it” than when I’m out and about.
Because, despite what I keep telling myself, I’m having a hard time accepting my Authentic Self. I guess that’s where Self-Compassion comes in. It’s okay to be me. It’s okay to be a spaz. Not everyone will like me and that’s okay. Holding onto my black box of Willfulness and trying to be Authentic is kind of like putting a shackle around my ankle and holding the weight in my arms and thinking I can manage to carry the keys too. Authenticity and Self-Compassion are the keys. And I can’t break free of my Willfulness unless I use the damn keys.
Well, that’s enough rambling, I guess. I may or not be hungry.
The Sarcastic Autist