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Apr. 2nd, 2002 01:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_rckSome of the stuff I discussed with my psychotherapist last week has led to discussions with Scott and with LunarGeography. I'm kind of playing blind men and the elephant here, grasping bits of the large picture and trying to explore them well enough to put together into something that makes sense and includes everything (Yeah, I'm pretty ambitious). The therapist and I discussed the notion of façade. That's my term not hers, but I think it's pretty accurate. I can deal with many things as long as my role is quite clear to me, as long as I can create a façade of that role and use it as my interface. When that interface deteriorates or starts to be painful (as it did at my old job), I become less and less able to function. It's more or less that I've somehow never learned how to just be myself; it's easier to put on a face that matches expectations. I become a polite granddaughter or a thoughtful student or a hardworking employee or a scheming game master with everything of myself that doesn't fit the role masked.
Of the roles I mentioned, I find that of student most comfortable. I have to hide the least there, and I get to play with ideas. I don't become the student that particular teachers want. I become the student that all teachers are supposed to want, at least as far as I'm able. If the subject matter's outside of my ability, I can't do much of anything to change that fact, and I tend to deal poorly with all aspects of my life for the duration.
I do find some irony in the fact that, despite my overwhelming levels of anxiety about most things, I have little trouble with the things that most people consider most anxiety provoking. I don't have trouble with tests, and I quite enjoy public speaking and theatrical performance. Those are all things with clearly defined expectations and mechanisms, things that I know how to do properly. My paralyzing fear is reserved for things like card games or asking for favors.
Some time during my childhood, I got the idea that my affection was unwelcome, that by loving someone I placed an unreasonable burden of obligation on them. I don't get so far as wanting desperately to be loved because I view that as coming after what I want. I want very much to be allowed to give love. For me, the power of my marriage is not that my husband loves me (he does, and that's a miraculous bonus) but that he doesn't mind that I love him. I know that I can't truly be loved, accept love, unless I can give love and have it accepted.
There's something wrong, basically twisted in this. It assumes that other people don't want love and affection or, at least, don't want it from me. I've observed enough of the world to know that most people seek desperately for these things. It is true that some can't handle the very real obligations that go with enduring relationships, but many, most perhaps, at least want to do so. Sadly, knowing has never changed my emotional reactions. My emotional "knowledge" is generally quite stubborn about yielding to intellectual knowledge; efforts at resolution tend to yield stress rather than reconciliation.
All of this relates to façade in that having a defined role tells me what part of myself it's acceptable to invest in the relationship. I think I've missed a number of opportunities over the years to have my interactions with others grow because I either miss the hints that change is possible or desirable or can't handle the possibility and so don't respond quickly enough. My hesitations rob me of far more than the opportunity to step out of my front door.
That I've had some very bad experiences on the few occasions when I started to be sure enough of myself to attempt to interact socially without façade doesn't help matters now. I somehow lack the armor necessary for normal interactions when I'm trying simply to be myself. Some of that is that the opinions of strangers and acquaintances have always been important to me. For much of my life, such opinions were all the reaction I got from the world around me. All that's kept me from becoming a whore to the views of strangers is an overwhelming sense of self-integrity. Other people may not like who I am when they really see me, but I've built an ethos that I will not violate, made a core identity that I will defend. I don't pretend characteristics, interests or other qualities that I don't have. I'm simply selective about what I let through and don't always correct other people's assumptions about me.
Of the roles I mentioned, I find that of student most comfortable. I have to hide the least there, and I get to play with ideas. I don't become the student that particular teachers want. I become the student that all teachers are supposed to want, at least as far as I'm able. If the subject matter's outside of my ability, I can't do much of anything to change that fact, and I tend to deal poorly with all aspects of my life for the duration.
I do find some irony in the fact that, despite my overwhelming levels of anxiety about most things, I have little trouble with the things that most people consider most anxiety provoking. I don't have trouble with tests, and I quite enjoy public speaking and theatrical performance. Those are all things with clearly defined expectations and mechanisms, things that I know how to do properly. My paralyzing fear is reserved for things like card games or asking for favors.
Some time during my childhood, I got the idea that my affection was unwelcome, that by loving someone I placed an unreasonable burden of obligation on them. I don't get so far as wanting desperately to be loved because I view that as coming after what I want. I want very much to be allowed to give love. For me, the power of my marriage is not that my husband loves me (he does, and that's a miraculous bonus) but that he doesn't mind that I love him. I know that I can't truly be loved, accept love, unless I can give love and have it accepted.
There's something wrong, basically twisted in this. It assumes that other people don't want love and affection or, at least, don't want it from me. I've observed enough of the world to know that most people seek desperately for these things. It is true that some can't handle the very real obligations that go with enduring relationships, but many, most perhaps, at least want to do so. Sadly, knowing has never changed my emotional reactions. My emotional "knowledge" is generally quite stubborn about yielding to intellectual knowledge; efforts at resolution tend to yield stress rather than reconciliation.
All of this relates to façade in that having a defined role tells me what part of myself it's acceptable to invest in the relationship. I think I've missed a number of opportunities over the years to have my interactions with others grow because I either miss the hints that change is possible or desirable or can't handle the possibility and so don't respond quickly enough. My hesitations rob me of far more than the opportunity to step out of my front door.
That I've had some very bad experiences on the few occasions when I started to be sure enough of myself to attempt to interact socially without façade doesn't help matters now. I somehow lack the armor necessary for normal interactions when I'm trying simply to be myself. Some of that is that the opinions of strangers and acquaintances have always been important to me. For much of my life, such opinions were all the reaction I got from the world around me. All that's kept me from becoming a whore to the views of strangers is an overwhelming sense of self-integrity. Other people may not like who I am when they really see me, but I've built an ethos that I will not violate, made a core identity that I will defend. I don't pretend characteristics, interests or other qualities that I don't have. I'm simply selective about what I let through and don't always correct other people's assumptions about me.
