I recently broke up with my psychologist..
You know when you’ve sucked that chewed-up straw in your third daiquiri for so long making that horrible annoying sound, there’s just nothing left, and you’re just forced to go get a new man go get you a new one?
Nothing like that.
That is totally objectifying and I take it back.
No, but part of it actually is that I’ve used that relationship for what it was worth. We had a certain tone that suited me at a certain time. I need a different tone now. Or no tone for a while! I’m sick of trying, but not seeing the effect that I need. So it’s over.
Which is fine, because he couldn’t understand the root of my anxiety. I wasn’t able to explain (actually I did but he didn’t get it) my anxiety clearly (I did).
The silk gloves are off. You’re fired and I’m taking over the wheels.
And I’ve been thinking a lot. About one of the main issues causing my anxiety. My whole life I’ve been ‘told’ about my physical appearance. I remember very early in my life being aware of how I looked. I was never one of those girls in princess dresses, so I know I didn’t feel the need to look a certain way. On the contrary I always cut my hair in an as-short-as-my-mom-would-let-me-bob and dressed in clown patterned suits rather than dresses!
I was told how skinny I was and that I should drink full fat cream, how big brown and beautiful my eyes were, what a beautiful smile I had and that I should use it more often.. Of course this just followed me and excelled the older I got. Feedback when I gained some weight, how my tits started to fill out my tiny bra nicely, how I should become a model, stop smoking -a beautiful girl like you. This constant feedback.
Men seemed to like how I looked. Which was great. I was always popular, had boyfriends. Even older guys would flirt with me before I knew what flirting was! I thought they were making fun of me, I remember it very clearly. But all of this was fun, if anything else embarrassing, never a bad thing.
Then I hit 15. A lot was happening that reshaped my life, but suddenly this attention became a burden. I don’t know how to explain myself without sounding like a total narcissist. I felt that I had to live up to this image, this persona created in the eyes of others that was never supposed to define or shape me and the paths I chose. It’s sad to say it did to the extent it did. For the first time in my life I felt ugly. I developed an eating disorder and started abusing alcohol and drugs just to stand myself and my life. I was disgusted by myself. All the other things I used to define myself as, all my qualities, my skills and treasures, were lost to me. As if they never even existed. Over night I was nothing but my physical appearance. And I hated it.
Now, this is awful. It’s awful the read, it’s awful to write. And today I’m mostly not disgusted and actually am quite happy with the way I look. I just haven’t reached the finish-line, but I’m on the right path towards it.
I am beautiful.
And we love hearing that, don’t we? People getting over their shame and self-hatred, starting off the day with that affirmation in the mirror until they believe it
“I’m beautiful. I am beautiful. I AM BEAUTIFUL !!”
That’s my issue still though. I am, again, defining my strength and self-love on how I feel about my physical appearance that day. So I will never get over that part, which holds the other parts in it’s hands, that carries my anxiety. Thus, my life! It’s all very discouraging. I can’t even look a man in the eyes without entering his brain and judge every inch of my face and body. Burning from blushing from thinking over any possible thought he must have of me, scared to death he’s actually going to comment on any of it. Fucking killing him in my mind when he comments on what he sees as blushing from the compliment he just gave me, when I’m really raging over how he dares address my physical appearance rather than my presence.
It’s all very unfair. It’s a privileged illness social anxiety. But countless bottles of wine I drink with my girl friends reassuring ourselves that we don’t need ANY man’s or woman’s approval and that we are BEAUTIFUL no matter what, and we DON’T CAAARE what other people think!,
it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t meet anyone without my body reacting as if death was around the corner. And that death will see how ugly I am.
My looks never concerned me before it was the first thing people defined me for. All I can do now is, and I encourage you to do the same, build up those treasures left behind. Like my creativity. My leadership skills. My physical strength. This special skill set I’ve developed during these years working on myself! They’re amazing, some of the truths I’ve discovered!! Sharing those. Shedding some light on the truth that your physical appearance is such a small part of who you are. It feels, in today’s society, a lot bigger. It really isn’t. You will be much happier if you put your time and effort into the other parts that make you you. Your mind has so much to discover about you. And slowly, you won’t even know the ship is moving, your focus will shift. A little bit.
I for one can only hope that I one day will worry about how the people around the table judge my actual work when I’m presenting it for them. Not my ability to convince them I’m beautiful.
Oh wow. I think breaking up with your therapist is a significant move; you’ve gained enough confidence in yourself to say you have a better understanding and you don’t need their guidance any more. Knowing the root of your anxiety I hope goes some way to better dealing with it, maybe this is a sign that you’re winning the fight against the demons.
There’s so many sayings, like ‘you can’t judge a book by its cover’ or ‘the eyes are the windows of the soul’ we always start by looking, and some impressions are formed, but when you get to know somebody (or something) when you start to know them, you see the beauty. Bare your soul, let people in, let yourself be loved and they will see beyond the shell.
I hope you continue to grow, get stronger, get wiser, gain confidence and happiness. Keep fighting Viktoria, you’re getting there. You’re worth knowing, and you are beautiful. <3
Dine ord, deg, du.
Det er ingen tvil om di unike evne til å tegne linjer som betyr noko. Tekst eller tekstil, aldri slutt <3
Meir av deg i verden!
S.
Stiiine <3 <3 Elsker deg!
Thank you for sharing these thoughts with us. ❤ have a wonderful night
Victoria I think it is for such a reflected woman as you are, no problem also to live a certain time without “supervision”, because this blog which you operate, fulfills a form of talk therapy as I would say. From experience with anxiety disorders I know myself, there is only one way “on the front!” No joke, there were days there I am on all fours through the apartment, because the energy was not there. I have been treated by confrontation myself, but everyone is different and if I may say that times, I have rather the feeling that you are primarily seeking intellectual confirmation and without knowing you really I would guess from what I would have read so You also determine the format. You are still very young, you would have no desire to make a psychology / philosophy study, so half-time, since there is guaranteed in norwegian remote studies? It gives a tool to the hand this high complex world and its consequences also micro and macro to understand … and everything I read is worn by reflection or? 😉
mark
Takk for at du delte dette, du satte ord på noe jeg ikke klarer å forklare. Jeg felte et par tårer, fordi mye av det du skriver er sån jeg føler det men ikke klarer å finne ord til, igen tusen takk. <3
Takk som sier det Maren. Så utrolig kjekt du kan få noe ut av det 🙂
Holy shit…
This hit home. I’m dumbfounded. It’s scary how closely your experience with anxiety run parallel with mine up until now. And I didn’t even know I had a problem until I read this. (or at least I’ve been telling myself I’m fine the whole time, yano) You’ve simultaneously opened my eyes and struck my temple with a lump hammer.
Im male, so there are minor differences but the story is the same. I was celebrated for being tall, muscular and generally masculine. I had all of the same offhanded encouragement to persue a MANLY career and hobbies, despite all of my interests being relatively effeminate. All the same critical feedback when I showed signs of not fitting the narrative. But still, at the time I enjoyed the attention.
My turning point was slightly different, not long after I left secondary school I got bitten by a tick, caught Lymes Disease, and in turn, Bells Palsy. For around 6 months my entire face was paralized. Even now after 7 years the left side of my face is still about 15% dead and I guess during the healing process the nerves in my face fused. Now when I blink, my mouth twitches and when I talk, my eye twitches. As I’m told 100 times daily; it’s not noticable. But I can see it. Every day when I looked in the mirror I could see it. In every picture I was tagged in I could see the puffy dead muscle on that left side.
I desperately tried to live up to that image, that persona you talked about. I started to slip too. Alcohol abuse. Drug abuse. I left university and squandered any chances at a good career as an architect. Got fat. Stopped making music, stopped skateboarding, stopped painting. stopped everything I love in persuit of this imaginary ideal.
“I was disgusted by myself. All the other things I used to define myself as, all my qualities, my skills and treasures, were lost to me. As if they never even existed. Over night I was nothing but my physical appearance. And I hated it.” EXACTLY THIS!
One thing you said which really struck me was “I can’t even look a man in the eyes without entering his brain and judge every inch of my face and body.” and “it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t meet anyone without my body reacting as if death was around the corner. And that death will see how ugly I am.”
I couldn’t put it any better myself. I struggle with this on the daily. And it pisses me off. I NEVER USED TO GIVE A SHIT ABOUT WHAT PEOPLE THOUGHT.
I wound up with a shitty night shift factory job and started to withdraw from society completely. I stopped with the drugs and ting. But slowly I started to spend less and less time with my family and friends. Preferring the company of video games, film and TV. All ambition gone. At this very moment any real relationships I’ve had are hanging on by a thread and I’m scared that I’m going to die alone. I’m 23 and I feel like a cold, bitter old man. What the fuck is that all about.
It’s weird though, right? There are so many people in the world worse off than us. We were born in modern countries full of possibility. It would be hard for us to have any better start in life. Every day there are babies born into the worst hell imaginable with no hope. And I’m sat here at my Mac on a friday night with my heating on, sipping cider, listening to System of a Down on a subscription music service with pretty much any luxury I could think of at my finger tips, feeling sorry for myself over how I look.
And you’d think thinking about that would make me feel better, make me realise I’ve been stupid. but nah. It makes me feel worse.
Im going to take your advice. I need to go back. Rediscover what used to make me happy. Revaluate my life.
Man, sorry for this tirade. Maybe you dont even read these comments but if you did i apologise for making you sit through it. It seems like this blog has helped you a lot though. Does writing about it help?
Youve opened my eyes tonight.
Im going for a drive. Cheers
I’m so sorry for what happened to you. All I know from Lyme disease is what I’ve learned from one of the women on the reality show Real Housewives (I know..!), and even a shallow program like that showed how tough it must be.. Is there any way of getting totally rid of it?
I always feel better after talking about my shit. Like I’m owning it. How hard and hopeless things can be, trying to hide them makes it so much worse. AND it can, likely WILL, hit most of us at one point. Some kind of challenge mentally. And then you’ll be a better person and can help them 🙂
👏🏻 some day I wish I can I say I agree ☝️ or still least try to say I can comprehend you, which I do now sort of but not yet relate.
Yes, WOW Viktoria. I cried when I read your words. I was born with a cleft palate. Hardly noticeable now (on the outside) but all the years it has taken me to accept myself … and still there is doubt even though I am beautiful and also talented!
Going solo (that is, without your therapist) will hopefully be very liberating for you. I think therapists (good ones) must act as platforms for which one finds what they need to of themselves and when ready to, can fly with the wind any direction they need to go, building on the strengths and realisations they have obtained along the journey. Doesn’t matter if he didn’t get it. You got it and that’s wonderful! You are on your way!
I think you are gifted in your abilities to share and connect through writing, and through your obvious creativeness. I think your skills set is astounding on many levels (based on what I can see from what you have shared). I thank you for everything so far and for your advice too, because I for one will do just that and concentrate on my special skills. ❤️ ⭐️
YES! Let’s focus on our special skills <3 <3