real me

You can only be yourself up to the point where the real you will hurt someone you love. After that, grace and basic courtesy steps in to make sure the relationship remains civil and alive.

The real me however is an angry cat. I am perpetually angry and upset, but behavioural standards and societal obligation makes me a different person than who I really am. Between the real me and the civil me, is a great disparity.

This is partly why it is so tiring for me to have to talk to people. Whether I am a good conversationalist or not, whether I am able to communicate to people from all walks of life or not. I may be able to charm and flirt with anyone and everyone, but that is probably not really me. Apart from inherently depleted energy levels because I am sick, being with people is so extremely tiring.

That it stresses me out. The prospect of an evening obliged to be spent schmoozing with groups of people, even friends, stresses me out that much, I have a panic attack, and I blame myself for being weak like that, which of course only accelerates the anxiety.

I have tried so hard to be an efficient networker, charming acquaintance, loving friend and adoring lover, and succeeded in most places. But the reason behind my being so, is because no one will accept me for who I really am, which really is quite otherwise from the above. I have lived concealing my anger and hurt for twenty-over years that I am sick from it now, bursting at my seams, and now you know.

But yesterday J wrote me the sweetest note ever in my notebook:

Jian <3 Elaine for what she is and not what she is trying to be.
This is the reason why we got together.

worldsuponwords by avalon at 8:15 AM    [ 0 comment | ]