I’m very sensitive to people’s perceived feelings. Let’s not confuse that with ACTUAL feelings. I don’t know what they’re really feeling – I ask, but I don’t believe them if they say anything logical (I’m tired) or nice (I’m fine…I love you). I just know what I THINK/I’ve DECIDED they’re feeling based on conversations, texts, facial expressions, lack of conversations or texts, and overall impressions of their presence.
As in, I always think people are mad at me/hate me. So, I never assume their faces or voices or texting habits are indicative of their love for me or convey how much they enjoy my company. I assume a text that doesn’t come through with an excited, over-the-top, positive (and long) response to everything I’ve just said means that the person (guy) is mad at me. It’s not always a guy, actually. Sometimes it’s my friends. I basically just assume the worst all the time. You know? IF YOU DON’T REPLY TO MY TEXTS RIGHT AWAY WITH COMMENTARY/RESPONSES TO EVERYTHING I’VE JUST SAID, YOU ARE MAD AT ME AND I DID SOMETHING HORRIBLE AND YOU WILL NEVER FORGIVE ME. Right?
For example, if someone is busy (AND I KNOW THEY’RE BUSY), but it takes them a while to respond? They hate me. If someone is at work, but yesterday they could respond when they were at work and today they’re not saying anything? They never want to see me again. If someone answers the phone sounding tired, or starts yawning at any point EVEN IF IT’S THREE AM? They don’t want to talk to me anymore, ever. If someone smiles at me, but it seems like a “tolerating” smile instead of an “I love and adore you” smile? They want to leave and they’re going to ghost me immediately.
Don’t even get me started on excuses like “my phone died” or “I saw your text but couldn’t respond” or “I’m at a party, I’ll call you later.” EVEN IF THEY CALL LATER… They’re over me and have already started ghosting. Can you imagine what happens to me if they actually do ghost? It’s a nightmare. The spiral begins.
You do not want to live in this head. It’s a terrible place.
Day 34 – And so the anxiety begins…
A Year to Grieve 