Months ago, while going through some of my parents things, I found a report by my psychiatrist from high school. My parents s made me see him after a tragedy. They had been instructed to do so by another doctor because I was not equipped to deal with what had occurred without guidance. So I did what I was told and went to these appointments, however I never really liked the man nor did I feel comfortable talking to him. I pretended he was fine and that I was too. Interestingly enough, his report summed up who I was and am pretty accurately. Did he help me with the tragedy? No. Did he understand who I was? Yes, he seemed to get me completely
The report stated that I felt like I wasn’t ever heard and surely never understood. That my emotional needs never seemed to be met and because of that, over time, I felt angry. Now all teenagers feel misunderstood but this wasn’t what he meant and I know that because I still feel these ways today. I remember back then thinking maybe I don’t explain things well. So I tried harder to articulate what I was asking for but it seemed like I was speaking a foreign language. My parents were old school and taught it wasn’t proper to show too much emotion. Not the uncomfortable kind anyway. Joyful emotions were allowed at all levels. The other stuff, makes people uncomfortable. I get it now. They didn’t know how to handle me and my loud emotions. They never were taught how to handle heir own. I was a force to be reckoned with.
I have read a few post recently that reminded me of this. It’s made me look at myself and think once again, is it me? I do still struggle with feelings of being misunderstood and not heard. I still feel people hear only what they want to hear, when I’m trying hard to listen to every word everyone says to me included facial expressions, inflections, or if not spoken….how it’s written and how the pattern of what is said, surrounded by everything else, is said and how it relates to what is trying to be said. What is trying to be felt. Maybe I try too hard and I expect others to try just as hard when they’re not made like me. I can’t make my dog meow so maybe I shouldn’t expect her too. I shouldn’t expect people to try to understand me, like a desperately try to understand them, because it’s not who they are. They aren’t disrespecting me. They just can’t.
I think the right person will understand me. Will take the time to hear what I’m saying as I will do for them. I should just feel blessed that I do try to get people and usually do and they feel it. I need to look at it as a gift and not expect the same for everyone else. This is a good lesson, I think.
Happy Saturday to all of you!