I used to be diplomatic, tactful, considerate. I would like to say I'm still those things, but it's become more important than ever before to me to be, above all else, honest. Now, don't get me wrong. Honesty has always been important to me - I just never before understood how damaging a 'white lie' could be.
Today I was asked if I considered a particular person a friend. Now, I don't know this person well. We do not have heart-to-heart conversations. I don't know what makes her tick any more than she knows what makes me tick. I do not know her favourite colour, what sort of food she likes to eat, or how she feels about ice cream. I do not know that when I am hurting, I can go to her and ask for comfort, or seek laughter or advice that is given knowing my situation and with my best interests at heart. She has never given me any indication to make me believe that she would consider me a friend.
In all honesty, I don't know her well enough to count her as a friend, and so I considered my options before replying. In the past, I would have immediately responded "of course you're my friend" so that I didn't hurt their feelings, and I'm sure there are people out there thinking that that is exactly what I should have said now, too. I didn't. I gave it thought and eventually I went with what amounted to "I don't know you well enough to consider you a friend, but you are someone I am interested in getting to know further".
I didn't feel that it was too horrible a thing to say, but it lead to an amount of uproar. I'm still confused. I recognise that there is a balance between being honest and being hurtful, but I cannot for the life of me seem to find it. Contrary to what seems to be public opinion of me these days, I have no desire to hurt anyone.
In fact, not wanting to hurt others is part of the reason honesty is so important to me at the moment. As I journey into my own recovery, I am beginning to recognise all the ways "white lies" have damaged my relationships and my self, and most specifically, my ability to trust -- not just you, but my ability to trust myself.
If I dress in a skirt that looks hideous on me and I ask you what you think, chances are that I suspect it may not be the most flattering piece of clothing I've ever tried. If you go on to tell me it looks fabulous, I learn to doubt my "intuition" that the skirt doesn't look good. Later, someone else may tell me how hideous it looks, and that opens the door to doubting your motives, your friendship, whether I should trust you in future. And even if I decide not to trust you in future, that initial seed of doubt in myself will still be there.
Trust is incredibly important to me. It's not something I've ever been able to have much control over in the past, but I'm learning. And one of the things I've learned about myself is that my ability to trust is tempered by the amount of times someone's lied to me.
White lies are damaging because they are lies and lies are an abuse of trust.
So, my purpose in writing this is twofold. One, to remind myself of why honesty is so important to me, and two, to ask how you balance honesty and protection of other peoples' feelings. Is there a line? I don't need you to agree with my P.O.V., but if you're going to offer criticism I do ask that you be constructive. "I think your way is hurtful. Next time you could try x" is helpful, "your way is mean" is not. I want very much to figure this out, for years I have prided myself on my interpersonal skills (despite my seeming inability to keep friends) and this struggle to find balance and keep people happy now that I'm actually expressing some apparently unpopular opinions is very upsetting to me.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way.
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
I Guess Sometimes Running Isn't The Answer
Here I am, doing the same thing I have always done, hoping for a better outcome without changing the direction of the flooding tide. There are heavy decisions hanging over my head that I am avoiding in hopes that they will make themselves; if I wait long enough, they might... but having them hanging is not making each day easier.
Avoidance. Escape. I want them; I feel as though I need them.
I know that avoidance as a coping mechanism almost all of the time falls short of "helpful" or "healthy"; and yet... It has been more than a week since I sat at my stepmother's table and shared a meal with them. I have tried to push away the thoughts, the emotions, the ideas. I have worked to build ladders against the walls of paranoia so that I can pretend they don't exist. I have built dams and wells and thrown into them the sadness, the guilt, the fear, the anger, the shame, the disgust. They continue to bubble up, bubble out and flood my brain the way the Brisbane river flooded Southbank last week. I have alternately reached out and retreated; struck out and struck in; fought and loved and hidden. And what I have done more than anything else is run. In any way I can, I have taken off running and not stopped until that panicked feeling went down a little again.
I need to find a way to control this crisis, because this became one far too quickly and far too strongly. I am in serious distress and I need to level it out enough that my skills have some impact.
I've been thinking about this all day, and I think I know how I'm going to do that. I think I know the right way to handle this, but I'm not absolutely sure. I might make it worse - but at least I will have tried... and if I don't do anything, it's still going to keep getting worse on its own.
Don't get me wrong; as much as I have avoided, I have also been trying to do what I need to, in tiny ways. I wrote a journal; I wasted about four thousand words avoiding and then I wrote a thousand words about the visit. I have mentioned that I'm struggling. And tiny ways at trying this are great, but they're not enough. if I want to keep my head above water, I need to make bigger steps.
I need to actually stop running. I need to start looking at this for what it was, and that's going to mean learning how to accept it. It's going to mean talking about it and writing about it and actually being honest about it. It's going to be uncomfortable.
But how do I voice this tangle of emotions? How do I extricate myself from the guilt, shame and disgust long enough to allow any of the other emotions a look in; or for long enough to allow anyone else in? I need to figure it out and soon.
I need to trust in my own beliefs, I need to trust in my own self; I need to let go enough to trust in the pockets of safety that there are here where the waters aren't so rough and I can rest a little.
When you are swept off your feet and carried away on the tide, how do you regain your equilibrium?
Avoidance. Escape. I want them; I feel as though I need them.
I know that avoidance as a coping mechanism almost all of the time falls short of "helpful" or "healthy"; and yet... It has been more than a week since I sat at my stepmother's table and shared a meal with them. I have tried to push away the thoughts, the emotions, the ideas. I have worked to build ladders against the walls of paranoia so that I can pretend they don't exist. I have built dams and wells and thrown into them the sadness, the guilt, the fear, the anger, the shame, the disgust. They continue to bubble up, bubble out and flood my brain the way the Brisbane river flooded Southbank last week. I have alternately reached out and retreated; struck out and struck in; fought and loved and hidden. And what I have done more than anything else is run. In any way I can, I have taken off running and not stopped until that panicked feeling went down a little again.
I need to find a way to control this crisis, because this became one far too quickly and far too strongly. I am in serious distress and I need to level it out enough that my skills have some impact.
I've been thinking about this all day, and I think I know how I'm going to do that. I think I know the right way to handle this, but I'm not absolutely sure. I might make it worse - but at least I will have tried... and if I don't do anything, it's still going to keep getting worse on its own.
Don't get me wrong; as much as I have avoided, I have also been trying to do what I need to, in tiny ways. I wrote a journal; I wasted about four thousand words avoiding and then I wrote a thousand words about the visit. I have mentioned that I'm struggling. And tiny ways at trying this are great, but they're not enough. if I want to keep my head above water, I need to make bigger steps.
I need to actually stop running. I need to start looking at this for what it was, and that's going to mean learning how to accept it. It's going to mean talking about it and writing about it and actually being honest about it. It's going to be uncomfortable.
But how do I voice this tangle of emotions? How do I extricate myself from the guilt, shame and disgust long enough to allow any of the other emotions a look in; or for long enough to allow anyone else in? I need to figure it out and soon.
I need to trust in my own beliefs, I need to trust in my own self; I need to let go enough to trust in the pockets of safety that there are here where the waters aren't so rough and I can rest a little.
When you are swept off your feet and carried away on the tide, how do you regain your equilibrium?
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Midweek Musings: Trusting
Today, at the end of a long and difficult counselling session, Carol pulled out some Angels With Attitude cards and asked me to choose one or more. She gave me the option of looking through the deck in order to choose, but I decided to pull one at random. As she began to fan the deck out in front of me, I pulled one of the more exposed cards and turned it over.
"Trust", it said, and I laughed through my tears. What an appropriate card for me right now.
In spite of everything, I am generally a very trusting person. I am naive, innocent, gullible and I both believe and believe in people. I trust in the basic goodness of most people. I trust that most people don't do things for bad reasons. I typically believe what people tell me, provided I have not been given a compelling reason not to.
Some of that, I suspect, is a subconscious mask, and other parts probably come from a desire to be seen as perhaps less intelligent than I might truly be. This is part of who I have been and it is part of who I am.
There is, however, a deeper level of trust, and it is here I often fall down. I easily trust outward; I do not easily trust inward. I do not trust my own self - my responses, my thoughts, my intuitions or my beliefs. I do not trust that I will use the right skills at the right time. And this lack of inward trust does extend outward; because I do not trust that my responses or emotions might be valid and appropriate, because I do not trust that I have much value, I do not trust that others will see it in me indefinitely, either.
Tell me that you will be here, and I will believe that you believe that... but I will not trust that you will stick around. I still spend far more time than I am comfortable with 'knowing' that as much as you believe you aren't going anywhere, this could be the time I mess it up. This could be the time I say the wrong thing and you realise how much you are sick of having me in your life.
Frustratingly, this lack of trust is often cause and effect all by itself. And, as is the nature of things when one has no internal self trust I alternate between responses.
I hear "go away" when you say hi and I think you hate me, but I challenge what I have heard and seek reassurance. If you are not very clear when you say "go away", I will hear "go away" and think you hate me, but I will challenge what I have heard and convince myself it's all in my head. Sometimes I get it right and I even respond accordingly, but more often I do not. I cannot imagine how frustrating it must be for those on the receiving end of both wrong-answer scenarios.
To constantly reassure me must be terribly annoying. To constantly be trying to get a message across to me when I keep telling myself you're sending a different one, equally so. How can I blame anyone for getting tired of this endless battle? I cannot; I do not.
I need to learn how to trust myself, because until I understand which thoughts to trust and listen to; how to balance checking in with others and understanding that I am not responsible for, or at fault in, every situation and interaction I have, until I can learn and understand that... I will always live in fear and sadness and anticipation that this is the day you walk away.
And in the meantime, I need to draw on those other layers of trust that I do have, that I can rely on. I need to trust in that basic goodness that I believe is in most people, because I'm going to need it over the next few weeks. I need to trust that if people have a problem with me, they will tell me. I need to allow myself to trust those safe people in my life as much as I can, because if I don't, I am going to lose everything I have worked so hard to gain and be.
Cheerleading/Challenge Statements:
It's okay to trust that my friends will tell me clearly if they don't want me around.
I have the skills and the ability to live through everything that comes my way - whether it comes by chance or invitation.
I have the right to look after my needs and wants.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way. And of course, don't forget to blog your own version of Sanguine Saturday sometime this week and let me know so I can link you next Saturday! ;)
"Trust", it said, and I laughed through my tears. What an appropriate card for me right now.
In spite of everything, I am generally a very trusting person. I am naive, innocent, gullible and I both believe and believe in people. I trust in the basic goodness of most people. I trust that most people don't do things for bad reasons. I typically believe what people tell me, provided I have not been given a compelling reason not to.
Some of that, I suspect, is a subconscious mask, and other parts probably come from a desire to be seen as perhaps less intelligent than I might truly be. This is part of who I have been and it is part of who I am.
There is, however, a deeper level of trust, and it is here I often fall down. I easily trust outward; I do not easily trust inward. I do not trust my own self - my responses, my thoughts, my intuitions or my beliefs. I do not trust that I will use the right skills at the right time. And this lack of inward trust does extend outward; because I do not trust that my responses or emotions might be valid and appropriate, because I do not trust that I have much value, I do not trust that others will see it in me indefinitely, either.
Tell me that you will be here, and I will believe that you believe that... but I will not trust that you will stick around. I still spend far more time than I am comfortable with 'knowing' that as much as you believe you aren't going anywhere, this could be the time I mess it up. This could be the time I say the wrong thing and you realise how much you are sick of having me in your life.
Frustratingly, this lack of trust is often cause and effect all by itself. And, as is the nature of things when one has no internal self trust I alternate between responses.
I hear "go away" when you say hi and I think you hate me, but I challenge what I have heard and seek reassurance. If you are not very clear when you say "go away", I will hear "go away" and think you hate me, but I will challenge what I have heard and convince myself it's all in my head. Sometimes I get it right and I even respond accordingly, but more often I do not. I cannot imagine how frustrating it must be for those on the receiving end of both wrong-answer scenarios.
To constantly reassure me must be terribly annoying. To constantly be trying to get a message across to me when I keep telling myself you're sending a different one, equally so. How can I blame anyone for getting tired of this endless battle? I cannot; I do not.
I need to learn how to trust myself, because until I understand which thoughts to trust and listen to; how to balance checking in with others and understanding that I am not responsible for, or at fault in, every situation and interaction I have, until I can learn and understand that... I will always live in fear and sadness and anticipation that this is the day you walk away.
And in the meantime, I need to draw on those other layers of trust that I do have, that I can rely on. I need to trust in that basic goodness that I believe is in most people, because I'm going to need it over the next few weeks. I need to trust that if people have a problem with me, they will tell me. I need to allow myself to trust those safe people in my life as much as I can, because if I don't, I am going to lose everything I have worked so hard to gain and be.
Cheerleading/Challenge Statements:
It's okay to trust that my friends will tell me clearly if they don't want me around.
I have the skills and the ability to live through everything that comes my way - whether it comes by chance or invitation.
I have the right to look after my needs and wants.
Take care of yourselves until next time, and may we all find our own small fences along the way. And of course, don't forget to blog your own version of Sanguine Saturday sometime this week and let me know so I can link you next Saturday! ;)
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