The conscience monster inside me is tearing me apart piece by piece.
Is it fair to judge a person that has a personality disorder the same way I would judge someone without one? Especially when being critical of others isn’t something to be proud of to begin with?
Is it okay for me to continue inflicting pain on someone who’s already so damaged that her mind has become defensive and deluded due to all the attacks its suffered, the heart so hardened and incapable of feeling for others because no one expressed the same empathy towards it?
Is it right for me to incessantly call out her wrongs, to shower more of the same type of criticism that caused all this in the first place?
The answer, as my inner conscience monster is so audibly screeching and clawing at me, is no. No, it is not okay for me to put her down like this, be it to her face or not, just so I can feel superior and accepted. I wouldn’t have turned out any differently in her circumstances anyway. I’ve felt it. I’ve been in a situation where I had no one in school. It hurt so bad that I thought I would never get through it. I would literally just burst into tears for no reason, which I think was somewhat scary for my parents. (I’m not being dramatic here.) I felt so inadequate, so flawed, and I had no way of avoiding it because everyone was pointing it out to my face. And what’s the mind’s way of handling so much criticism? It pulls out the big guns, it gets defensive. It forms a nuke-proof shield around it because it simply cannot take any more.
Of couse, I had my family to rely on, thank God. Without them, I’d probably have just jumped of the building and pummeled to my death. (I did consider it, I was just too cowardly to actually do it.) It sucks to feel that way. It sucks massively to feel so unwanted, to feel like the whole world is against you, to think you aren’t good enough and to feel like a waste of space.
The worst part about it all, is that it’s easy to make excuses. It’s natural that I would expect her to act in a way that is socially acceptable, because it’s simple to say that there’s nothing wrong with her, and she just wants attention.
I realized, however, that she wants attention because she feels the need to prove herself. She doesn’t see her self-worth (largely because of my contribution, I might add) and she doesn’t think she’s good enough. And well, it’s really all sorts of heartbreaking.
I can make excuses for myself. I can switch my conscience off long enough to have said some pretty nasty things. But It doesn’t stay off forever.
I remember after the HH last year, we all sat in a circle and talked about our experiences with each other, and many cried, because we recalled the shit we’ve all been through that’s made us the way we are, cracks and all. We cried because we remembered how badly it hurt, and also because we were happy that people understood since we’ve all shared similar experiences. It was the first time that I really felt accepted. At that point I thought to myself, “Thank God, I don’t think I can take any more rejection.”
Why didn’t I extend that same acceptance to her? Why didn’t I stop and realize that I was contributing to someone else’s grief? Why did I only extend acceptance halfway? Oh, you’re fine, I can be kind to you because I understand you’ve been through hell yet you’re still kind of normal because you had a better in-built coping mechanism, but I can’t be nice to her because she’s been through hell too but didn’t cope so well and as a result needs more help. She’s too much work, I’m disabled too – that is, disabled to being nice.
I messed up so royally. And I don’t think I have enough time to fix it.
The other day a friend said something that really stuck with me. She said, “If He could die for everyone, including murderers, rapists, me, and even her, then why can’t I at least just talk to her?”
That took my perspective off it’s stubborn hinges and spun everything into a new point of view.
Right now, all I can say is, apart from guilt, I feel lucky as hell. Thank the Lord I don’t have a disorder (I think), because it’s kind of evident that people who need the most help, get the opposite. This sounds horrible, but in all honesty, I don’t think I could survive being her. So I’m lucky to have dodged a bullet, because it could have been anyone, and it wasn’t me.
I’m pointing the finger at myself, and this doesn’t represent what I think of anyone else, because I didn’t receive the same treatment as some of you. Either way, you can call me a hypocrite. Call me self-righteous (although I don’t see how that applies here since I’m calling my own mistakes out). I’m just really tired of doing what I feel isn’t right, and being okay with it because I’m really not. I’m stressed, I’m tired, but I think I’ve finally gotten rid of my superiority complex.
We can agree to disagree.