I once read a friend’s note that started off “I seem to be in a weird mood lately” and that phrase has stuck in my mind. For the last couple of weeks, if I stop and reflect, it seems to apply to me. So,
I seem to be in a weird mood lately. I seem to be pulled in so many different ways. I’m weary without really having done anything. Mentally, I seriously wonder about my health. So, I began seeing a counselor a couple of weeks ago. It’s been nice to have someone to talk to, someone who’s sole purpose for that hour is to listen to me. I’m not really one to demand attention or share my private things with people. Yes, that’s become a problem, apparently.
I’ve learned quite a bit about myself lately:
1. I tend to apply things from movies to my life, rather than from the Bible. (I didn’t find this out in counseling. It just came to mind first.)
2. I tend to be unnecessarily hard on myself, holding myself up to an unrealistic standard only to fail. It can be very discouraging.
3. I’m really good at pretending around people, imitating them to blend in and please them. And because of that…
4. I don’t really know who I am. I don’t know what I want from life, from relationships, from myself. I’m lost.
5. I like to please people because I think that will make them like me.
6. I scorn things that I struggle with myself.
7. I’m not really sure what I’m good at. (forgive the grammar)
8. I was raised to go against my natural tendencies of feeling, being a creative free spirit, daydreaming, dancing, etc.
9. I do not know what I am good at because I’ve always felt I need to fill in wherever I see a need.
When I was a little girl, I was much more physically active. I wanted to take ballet when I was 6, but the school shut down on my first day. Undeterred, I would put on music and dance around the living room to Fiddler on the Roof and Sound of Music. Yet, I never really “learned” to dance and I would die before doing it in public. I remember my dad quoting someone one time, “Dancing is a socially accepted way to make a fool of yourself.” Being foolish was unacceptable in my family.
We had a swing set in the backyard. Sometimes I would swing on it lost in my thoughts, but more often I would jump up and swing from my arms imitating gymnasts I’d seen somewhere. No, I never actually swung over the bar, but I pretended I had. I pretended a lot of things.
I still pretend. I pretend things don’t affect me as much as they do. To fit in, I pretend I care about appearances when a cursory look at me would show evidence to the contrary. I pretend to care about my job when all I really want to do is daydream and reflect on life and ideas floating through my mind. I pretend to know what’s going on in the world. I pretend to like people who are actually selfish and harmful.
The truth is I’m running out of pretense… and it’s scary.
