Twice in one day? What?
Five years ago, I wrote that hope was the mindkiller. It can be a euphoric feeling, but as the result of several bad experiences, the potential for disappointment outweighed the gain.
My way of dealing with disappointment was to assume the worst. It made me comfortable. There was certainty, and I could move on.
So I had learned never to hope. This is how I changed. This is how I adapted. A defence mechanism I used to protect myself from being hurt. I had been fine with this, until today.
Perhaps it was having Julie tell me that I’m better than the attitude I have, or the life I lead1, but I’m filled with hope again. For once, I dare to dream of something greater.
I want it and hate it at the same time. It gives me courage, but throws my world into uncertainty, like I’m setting myself up to be hurt again.
But Julie’s strong enough to believe in me and stubborn enough not to give up, because I’m not capable of believing in myself.
And maybe that’s enough to break the cycle.
- It made me realize I need someone else to tell me certain things, because I can’t see them for myself. I hate the fact that I can’t be strong enough for myself. I probably shouldn’t. It just means there’s something else about which I’m being too hard on myself, which I’ll have to tell my psychologist about anyway. [↑]
You only seem to accept that from certain people. I always get the feeling that you’ll get pissed off if coming from me.
Do you find that the things you are articulate in one mood you maintain as story of self after the mood passes? Or let that story fluidly pass? How things are, is it an identity or an examination? an observation or a imposition of narrative? These questions float thru me these days.
There are comparable to clinging to hope or allowing the float up and float down, watching the far horizon lest one get seasick, but not going to disconnect head–heart-body-space so much one forgets one is on a boat, if you see what I mean…
some hopes can be realised only by chance, others can be realised by a combination of chance and efforts. So the element of chance always plays a big part. Me, I always presume the worst, that’s probably my defensive mechanism too. But hope does give you the drive, and it’s a good feeling.
Jeff (and Causalien), I think it’s normal for a person with this defense mechanism to only trust his or her dearest one with timorous hopes for change. But it doesn’t mean the others aren’t appreciated at all, or are unneeded in any way. They are often uncelebrated, but crucial. We can be so desperate under our surface that we cling to those calm supportive ones like railings around a perpetual ice rink of slippery doubts. Because we hold on to them all the time, we may forget to say anything. But we are very aware of what they are doing for us.
Pearl, your grammar is boggling me. I’ve no idea what you mean. And I think I do want to know what you mean.
@Causalien — I wouldn’t get pissed off…quite the contrary from you. But I only take advice seriously from people I respect.
@Pearl — I’m going to have to agree with Xibee on this one. Could you clarify the questions you’re asking?
@Uncle Joe — I’ve been the same way, but I’ve decided to change and not presume the worst, because it can be problematic to be a pessimist. Doesn’t mean I’m trying to presume the best, but perhaps a balance. Being a realist instead.
@Xibee — Well said…things like this are ingrained and personal. It doesn’t just take someone close, it takes someone close who won’t give up on you.