The Tackiness of Emotional Ignorance

Sure, it’s bliss for some people but it’s a headache for those they come in contact with. It can be uncomfortable because you’re dealing with someone who reacts off assumptions and acts in the moment without the perspective to think it further. There’s no awareness to see past themselves so there is a disconnect for them to understand their behaviour and it’s exhausting. It’s awkward because there’s no point in arguing. They are so certain they know better and with how far their heels are dug in the ground, it’d be great for trenches. You’d almost feel bad for them if they weren’t so obnoxious with their sense of righteousness.

The accountability is almost nonexistent because they are not the cause of their detriments. It’s what made them who they are and they’ll be quick to let you know this when they’re on the defence. Their self-esteem is high. They don’t understand why you don’t appreciate how patronizing they are because that’s how they’ve always treated people. Their bubble is limited to those who they don’t think are better than them. They’re so good at pretending that in the beginning, you believe their shit too.

They move quick with you. You think it’s because they like you but it’s because they are trying to impress you quick so you can’t spot their inconsistencies. Whether or not this is intentional, you’re still not even sure once you’ve walked away. They sell you a story until they don’t want to anymore. They’ll be mad at you when you don’t go along with it. Their emotions are your fault. They’re not supposed to really have them. One minute it’s a joke, the next minute it’s an annoyance.

They’ll want you around all the time when it’s convenient for them. You’ll find yourself questioning your thoughts of them because are you being a dick for how you’re feeling? There’s this weird feeling in your stomach even though you care about this person. They’ll help you out when you need it. They must be nice. It shouldn’t matter if they make you uncomfortable with how negative they speak. It shouldn’t matter if you’re feeling uncomfortable matching what they tell you matters to them and how they actually act about it. Are you being too judgmental?

The doubt grows and grows. You express how you feel but it’s pretty dismissed and overlooked. You find yourself reasoning for them more and more even though they give less and less of a shit about your feelings and getting more and more frustrated with what you’re thinking. They still do stuff for you but outside of what’s in front of them, there’s not much thought or consideration. You ask yourself if this is a bad thing or not. You know it doesn’t make you feel good though.

You feel like you’re just trying to help but you’re not sure by how much you’re getting shut down. You don’t know better than them. You question things but they act like they know more than you even though it’s stuff you actually know and have an understanding of. They’re just doing it their own way, okay?

At first they’ll act like you’re their everything but suddenly you feel like you’re being taken for granted because their moods have changed and you also start finding yourself feeling more stressed. You’re still trying until one day they get frustrated and call it quits on you.

You thought they cared about you this whole time and your feelings mattered. This thought goes away and reality sets in when you see they’re already trying to date other people and expressing interest in other people like what you had never even happened. You find yourself confused for awhile and wonder what you did wrong. They want you in their life but at their convenience and you will just have to take whatever interest you get now. It doesn’t make you feel good though.

They’ll yell at you for taking away their happiness and tell you it’s your fault. They were fine before they met you. It’s not on them. This is all you for trying to understand them and the disconnect in what they tell you and what they show.

But it’s tacky. The ignorance becomes too overwhelming for you and all you can do is walk away and hope the best for them. It won’t matter to them though.

Nothing really matters to them. They’re happy in their ignorance and you continue to be happy with your mental wellbeing and you feel it once you start to accept that. Your heart still aches but you know it’s for the best. For you. This is who you remind yourself to care for because they don’t care about you anymore.

Therapy Can Help

Feelings are hard to talk about and share, man.

When I was doing it wrong, it felt really lonely. I’d open up to people who I thought could relate but it ended up reinforcing the shittiness I was feeling inside. To be real, looking back, we lowkey used each other’s bad stories as an escape comparison for our own. We enabled the self-destructiveness of each other because while we were sharing, we weren’t very caring because we barely cared about ourselves. We sure as shit pretended we did though. It’s not an easy thing to recognize when you spend most of your time with this kind of environment as your main way. There’s no uplifting in that even though there is a broken connection.

Then there were times I shared with people who would just dismiss what I was saying. When I didn’t have value, the passive listening made me feel like I wasn’t worth anything to hear. The lack of care they had for what I had to say was crushing at the time. It added nothing to the conversation and left me feeling even lonelier. It made me bury my feelings even further.

Of course, then there was me. I didn’t know how to communicate. I had all these feelings and no direction with them because I felt like I was mostly hitting dead ends when I tried. I was so confused about what was going on inside me and having to repress it but still trying to understand made me feel like I was going mental. Even with all my innate emotional insight capabilities, they meant nothing because I was holding back and onto everything because I didn’t know what to do.

I had no adult to turn to. I had no elder figure that could bestow wisdom on me. It was just me. I felt like a fucking alien. I had some good friends but it’s not their responsibility to be readily available to me when I was going through some of my anxiety attacks. I knew I could text them and they would get back to me or call when they could with reassurance and that helped comfort me a bit when I was in the middle of one. Even then, I knew I couldn’t place matter into their hands because no, so I had to deal with a lot of internalizing and internal stuff alone.

By the time I was out of my six-month relationship with the narcissist, I was exhausted and ready to finally do whatever the fuck I could to be better for myself. I reasoned with myself that it was someone to talk to, who had to listen to me because I was paying them and was also equipped to help me through the emotional turmoil I was going through. They went to school to help me understand my doubts and whether it was all in my head or not. They were someone to talk to that was an adult and could do so objectively. The sweet thing about being an adult is, they don’t just assign you a therapist. You get to pick one that you feel a good fit with. I avoided this decision for a long, long time and had reasons that were surface valid but shit, at that point in my life, I was desperate to stop being the way I was.

I started with a counselor who I saw every other week for 90mins. She helped me recover from that shitty relationship and put things into perspective for me that made me sick to my stomach. It took a while for me to understand and I would argue with her and excuse his behavior in that relationship as him being a fucking idiot. She began my start at learning how to love myself the way I am. She challenged a lot of my negative talk and taught me how to take certain words out of my vocabulary. For general stuff, she was really good and told me I wasn’t as broken as I thought I was and that I was a fighter. It was good in that she reinforced that my thought processes were pretty rational and not crazy but because she understood my strength, she wasn’t much help past the general stuff so I didn’t really get any emotions out of that, which I needed because somewhere along this way, I started to really accept the reality of my emotional trauma.

That shit started when I found a therapist who worked with trauma clients. Shit got pretty real when I got to this stage. I was lucky to find one for a very reasonable price that I was able to have weekly, consistent sessions. I was able to learn to open up and talk about shit and my feelings more from my counselor. I was able to start making decisions that were the right decisions for me and helped me understand myself enough to get out of some pretty fucking miserable spots in my life. By the time I got to trauma therapy, I was able to tell myself that I would go into this being as honest as possible and follow through.

I had some side help from a grief counselor as well when my old coworker died. I took the chance to talk to him and he spent 45 minutes with me giving me insight outside of the tragedy and helped me understand more of things as a whole. I actually broke down that day when I got home and just let myself cry my eyes out and let everything out without that jerk reaction to bury. I learned that day to grieve. Not just for my coworker but for some of the issues I was trying to put to rest. It was so intense that I needed the day after to recover.

Back to the trauma therapist, she was really, really empathetic. I really couldn’t accept it initially because it felt so fucking weird. She listened to me with a sense of compassion I’d never felt before and I really didn’t like it at first. It never felt like I was laying down on a couch while someone had a notepad with me. With her, I started to really understand allowing myself to sit with my feelings and accept them even though it took quite a while because I was really resistant to it. I got pretty defensive about it and told her that my body sensations were not the issues here. It was a really hard thing to unwire because I was so used to bursts of crying and then quickly bottling it down and moving on. I was really stubborn about sitting with my emotions because I thought it was stupid.

I had to stop seeing her because I got financially set back from leaving my job to try to focus on my writing more (which was a fail, but it’s okay) but the last time I talked to her really hit me. It was the first time I allowed my emotions to sit there with her. She reassured me that she was there with me and she felt it with me too. It finally made sense to me why it was okay to do this. I didn’t feel alone in doing this like I always did and she stayed with me through it. I always used to feel like I needed to hurry up my vulnerability to someone because I was wasting their time. I still do sometimes but it’s been better after this.

Lately, I’ve been feeling like I need to go back to therapy. It’s on the list of my priorities once I get my shit together a little more solid. I no longer feel as wobbly as I once did but there’s still stuff I need to work on. Therapy is a weird thing to talk about because some people also don’t know how to respond when you mention that you’re going to it. I don’t think it should be used as a crutch so you can just talk about your problems rather than dealing with them but when it works, it works but it takes time and a willingness to follow through with what’s going on during it. It took me a year and a half of it to get to where I am right now and it’s the best emotional and mental spot I’ve ever been in because I’m finally at a point of no return with myself and now I understand who I am as a person and accept that.

And it feels fucking awesome.