Demons

Sometimes you wake up with demons.

They don't announce their presence right away, but, by the time you're fully settled into your morning, right around the time you're waking up and trying to be a fully functioning adult human, they pounce.

This morning was such a morning, and lucky for me, the demons stuck around all day. 

Being a big feeler of big feelings, sometimes my greatest fear is losing people. The demons know that, and they prey on it.

When I was a young girl, playing on the playground, under the nurturing branches of the friendship oak, I lost a person.

Her name was Naomi, and she was my "best friend." Despite the happenings of that day, Naomi remained my "best friend" for a few years after that, but on that particular day, she was feeling a little mean. On that day, she announced, "I'm no longer your best friend; I'm Heather's best friend." And off she went to play with Heather, leaving me a big puddle of emotional trauma and scabbed knees.

There are moments in life that define you, and looking back, I guess that was one of my moments. When asked by those that love me, "why do you lack any self-confidence or self-worth," I don't really have a good answer. I grew up in the loving arms of loving parents. I was reminded on a daily basis how great I was. But for some reason, I always focused on those moments like the one on the playground. In spite of all the love and care, I couldn't seem to get past the self-doubt.

When I lost Naomi that day, I didn't really lose her completely. As I said, we remained friends for a few years after that, although I eventually moved away, thus ending our grade school relationship. No, instead of losing Naomi completely, I think I lost a little bit of my trust in people. And with that loss of trust, friendship became a bit of a pattern for me.

Wish for friends. Get friends. Don't fully trust friends. Let anxiety dictate friendship. Lose friends.

As a 35 year-old adult, I now know what true friendship is.

There are no best friends. Love and friendship can't be boiled down to labels. My friends today know me for who I am, warts and all, anxiety and all, self-doubt and all. And yet, they still choose to love me. They choose to be there on days like today, when the demons are bad.

And, today, I woke up with demons. And they're still here. They remind me of the child version of me and tell me that everyone will eventually get fed up with me; they tell me that everyone will eventually abandon me. They dig in with their claws and rip apart what little trust I have in others.

With the help of my friends and family and love, they will subside, these demons. They will gradually hide away, lulling me into a false sense of confidence and security, waiting in the shadows for that next moment of weakness, waiting to kick me while I'm down. On that day, like today, they will feast upon the insecurities of a woman who never really grew up from the child who could never really see how incredible she was and is.

The truth of me: zit, mascara smudged from tears, lips hopelessly chapped.

The "I'm Sorry" Jar

                                                             Source: when-pigs-have-wings.blogspot.com via Lauren on Pinterest

I'm not going to start by saying I'm sorry. When I'm at a loss for words, when all seems to be said and done, "I'm sorry" is my stand-by, my go-to phrase. It's the nervous tic I've never been able to conquer, the bad habit I just can't break. It's the motto and slogan and tag-line of a life-long people pleaser, of a self-conscious, socially-anxious, neurotic weirdo with an incredibly guilty conscience.

So, I'm not going to start this by saying I'm sorry. Because I haven't done anything wrong.

And I usually haven't done anything wrong when I say it. The things I apologize for are often beyond my control and have nothing to do with my thoughts or actions...and yet, I still apologize. In fact, I over-apologize.

About two weeks ago, in a meeting with my boss, I found myself uttering those dreaded words again. The meeting had run long, due to no real fault of my own, and I scurried to apologize.

My boss sighed. My tendency to overuse "I'm sorry" wasn't new to her. In fact, she'd admonished me for it before. "Katie, you have nothing to be sorry for."

And I knew that. Logically, I knew that my apology wasn't warranted or necessary.

Logically, I know a lot of things.

As we headed up the hallway from her office, my boss continued, "We're going to break that bad habit of yours. I'm going to start charging you every time you say 'I'm sorry.'"

One of my coworkers who happened to overhear our conversation piped up, "Yeah, we'll start her an 'I'm Sorry' Jar. Kinda like a Cussing Jar. She'll be broke in no time flat!"

The problem is she's right. Absolutely, completely, and embarrassingly correct in every way.

Since then, I've been thinking a lot about my tendency to apologize for anything and everything and nothing. I've been thinking about how those simple words undermine me, about how they take away my power and make me appear weak, about how they justify the actions of others...good or bad.

And when I use them too much? It strips away the power of the words themselves, making them pointless to say and pointless for others to hear.

Out of all the reasons to stop saying "I'm sorry," this was the one that really got to me, that really made me start thinking about how to break this bad habit. Sincerity is important to me. I'm not much of a talker; when I do talk, I want people to know that I mean what I'm saying. I want them to understand that I value words, and I value their meaning. I don't say something just to say it...

...unless I'm saying "I'm sorry."

The compulsion to utter that phrase has become less about the meaning behind the words and more about my own neuroses, my own need to avoid conflict, my own, nearly overwhelming, need to please others.

But I'm sick of being that person. I'm sick of having a perpetually guilty conscience for things that I haven't even done wrong. I'm sick of being a push-over who gains no respect from those around her, who has a reputation of being weak. 

I'm not sorry for who I am or for the decisions I make. I'm not sorry that I have opinions that don't match yours. I'm not sorry that you're having to do your job. I'm not sorry that I made one little mistake; everyone makes mistakes. I forgive them for theirs; when will I forgive myself for my own?

When I need to be sorry, I'm sorry. But for the hundreds of thousands of times that I haven't even done anything to be sorry for, I'm not sorry. 

Do you have an "I'm sorry" compulsion? How do you keep from apologizing all the time for nothing?

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