Firstly, I’m actually happy to say that this isn’t one of my give-me-pity posts. I realised something about me today and I want to share it, in the hopes that you understand a little more of how I work. It bothers me, but I’m not altogether upset.
In a deep corner of my mind, I have convinced myself that I’m never ‘first’ for anyone. I’ve mentioned it sometimes before on my blog, a fleeting comment, but today was the day where I accepted that it’s how I think and no common sense can get rid of it.
Perhaps I’m not making sense. I constantly get the paranoia that my friends – or anyone around me for that matter – always have somebody better to talk to, someone who they’ll always need more. It’s not because my friends’ actions hint at it – they are amazing people and let me feel accepted – it’s just a horrible feeling I can’t shake, even when a little part of me knows it’s not true.
I tell myself I’m not good enough, that I’m altogether worthless because at the end of the day, people wouldn’t come to ME for help. There would always be another person, someone better, more reliable – god, this all sounded more fluid and better in my head. I suppose that’s how things are, though; in your mind it all flows, but down in words it’s jagged lines and half-formed sentences.
Jealousy creeps, like a mist. You don’t realise the volume of it until it engulfs you, and when it receeds you feel dirty and like you’re something wrong. I can’t exactly pinpoint where it stems from – an ofhand comment from a friend, something I’m not invited to even though there’d be no chance of me going anyway. Just… Something tiny.
People don’t even realise that I feel like this; that’s the worst part. I’m not secure: in how I feel about myself, how I think others see me, and the sooner I understand that the better. I hate to be all introspective and melancholic, but I can’t help the sheer fact that I feel like I’d never be someone’s first choice.
I don’t want to make anyone feel guilty. To quote a cliché phrase – it’s not you, it’s me. Even by posting this, I might make people I know tread on glass around me, always worried that I’d snap and think I was nothing to them. It might cause them to treat me differently, force them to pay more attention – but I don’t want that. I jwant people to understand and not think of me as fragile.
I almost think it’s pathetic: a friend talking about how close they are with one of my close friends doesn’t make me sad – it makes me jealous and dislike myself, because I think I can never have that friendship with that person because I’m NOT FIRST. Often, it doesn’t phase me; I’m fine with just being a person because I know that people care and love me. But sometimes, I let it bother me, and I go through all the friends I have and ask myself who’s better friends with them, why said friends wouldn’t go to me, all the reasons calculated in my head. It’s destructive, and makes me feel so lonely that I could choke, but I can’t stop. Rather than anger, it’s a twisted form of comparison.
Pushing myself into the background, because I’m possessive and if I trust someone completely, I’m too terrified of being replaced and getting creepy or being too THERE. Not that that’s ever stopped me – the list of people I trust is long – but it means that at the fear of a break of trust, I wonder who they’d go to. Not me – someone else, and that thought makes me irrationally sad. I told you I was a tad possessive with my friends… Tis not good.
Do I really matter? I’m contemplating that question now, calm saturating my mind, wondering why such sadness builds up in me when I hear about a friend trusting someone with something before me. Or just… Not telling me something, and making it very clear they aren’t going to. Either because they don’t trust me, or I’m just the step below a bronze medal to them. That hurts, but luckily I’ve come to accept that people have different opinions of me.
You see, I’m honestly not upset. It might seem like it, because I was earlier, but now it’s more of a bleak thought. If I was first for everyone, I’d consider it selfish and purposefully shove myself away. I’d be so overelmed that I’d start to shut myself off even more than I already have. I’m open, yes, but the tangled sprawl that is occasionally my mind isn’t shown to anyone, least of all me.
It’s doubtful that, if people told me I was the first person they’d go to, I’d believe them. I’d either think that they were trying to make me feel better, or they’d read this post and were trying to make me feel better. More times than not, I WON’t be the first; I’ll just be the second or the third, or even an afterthought. I’ve pretended to trust so many people at the cost of my own health that I know exactly what it’s like to do that. I trust my friends, all of my close ones, and so I know that they’d come to me if something was seriously wrong. It just takes a long time for me to properly believe that, because I find it difficult to trust about the big things.
Fuck, this post turned out more sad than I intended. Other people seeing you sad is one thing, but feeling yourself fill up and then drain of it is another. It leaves you with a gaping emptiness that is then filled with the trust I so want.
What I need to know is that people are there for me, in whatever capacity – gold, silver, bronze, or just a certificate. I feel like I’ll never be gold, that I fall short of that mark always, and the true extent of how much I believe that hit me today. This morning, I was sad, bitter, resigned and then finally, I remembered that as long as I was there for people, I’d feel more okay with myself. If I was there for them, I could help them and that’s what makes me smile.
I’m happy with being silver.
From Elm 🙂