To say that depression caused me to start experiencing emotions in a stronger way would be false. I have always been this way. Deep feelers or emotionally intense are two terms for the same thing: one who has an acute sense of experiencing their emotions. Dramatic doesn't even begin to scrape the tip of the iceberg. But I am slightly different then those who are typically described as deep feelers. Primarily because of other people's lack of ability to perceive my emotions. But I am a deep feeler I just go about handling it drastically different from others.
I keep my business to myself. I try to limit those who know my actual intentions, my end goal, my feelings, and my leverage. I am secretive and don't trust easy. I'm even secretive about being secretive. I talk so much about certain parts of my life it makes people feel like they know me. What could someone who talks so much about themselves possibly be hiding? Over sharing in one area makes people forget about everything else. I know that is manipulative to say and do. Manipulation is part of being secretive. So is controlling one's feelings.
Fake it until you make it has layers of different implications to me. My home life growing up wasn't all it was cracked up to be. However, all anyone saw was a happy healthy child. I did have problems at first in school. I had to go to socialization therapy from kindergarten to third grade. The idea of socialization therapy is to teach a person doesn't naturally understand social cues to understand. That's not what I did. I learned to read people. Then I took that and used it to my advantage. I already had practice, because of what was going on in my house, how to suppress sad emotions. No matter how bad I wanted to cry I could put a smile on my face and laugh. I can seemed just as happy as anyone else while actually dying inside. Thanks Mom. Now I could also accurately fake other emotions, angry, scared, and frustrated.
As deep feeler, my normal way to feel and express those feelings is too much. My happy is the fairy tale ending. My sad is rivers of tears and valleys of misery. My anger could fuel a war. My fear would make normal people make senseless and inhumane mistakes like locking children up in internment camps. Processing my feelings can be quick or it can take months. Something that I felt years ago can be triggered at a moment's notice, by a sight, sound, thought, or smell. I verily experience feelings. My emotions often come with a physical manifestation. I get so scared I shake. I experienced euphoric state, similar to a drug-induced high, when I'm really happy. I get so frustrated I get headaches. I have gotten so angry that I overheated and had a nosebleed. I get so sad my immune system basically gives up and I get really sick. I was so heartbroken in December I actually got diagnosed with broken heart syndrome (symptoms that mimic a heart attack can cause extreme chest pain).
All of this happens and no one is the wiser. That is because I could basically control how I outwardly show emotions. I had problem not laughing at inappropriate moments. I can still cry on cue. That is how I made it through grade school. I avoided giving the bullies the satisfaction of seeing me scared or cry. But just made me more of a target because everybody thought but I didn't feel. I played teachers, friends, and family. I wouldn't call it years of pretending though. To really be able to make the emotion seem real they basically have to be real. It wasn't hard lying to the outside world when you believe the lie yourself. I compartmentalize really easy. While I was in grade school I believe that I had four different versions of myself at play. My mom's house, school, swim team, and dad's house. None of them with the real me. Each one liked different things, spoke with a different vocabulary, different friends, had different goals, and a slightly different backstory. I crafted each character and then I lived out her life. Each different character genuinely reacted as a typical person would given their fake history, ideals, and experiences.
*** SIDE NOTE***
Now one of the versions of me that I have play is more truly myself. I have more down time to just myself with no one around to be who I truly am. I have slowly begun to choose individuals who can actually know me. So far I've chosen two and only actually began show myself to one of them. This blog though is the most honest representations of myself. Which I allowed because of the anonymity. There no consequences for in the real world. No one is able to figure me out still. You all know me without being able to effect me.
******
It wasn't difficult to transition between everything that was going on. It was difficult to remember who I was, truly. I built the fantasies to escape the reality. It was difficult to leave behind the fantasy that I loved so much for the reality that I hated. That was the beauty and the nature of the beast. Create a character to escape the harsh reality, live as that character, love that lie of a life, become that character. There's no end to the lie of a life that I've created except for my actual death. The fiction and my biography are intricately entwined. For I am the lie and the truth.
No comments:
Post a Comment