This is the third intro to a post I’ve written in the last thirty minutes. I’ve deleted everything else because it would only cause a commotion, just take up unnecessary space, and waste your time and mine.
I’m scared that all the planning, analyzing, and the general amount of work that I’ve done the last few months is being taken away from me. I can almost feel some person robbing me of everything that I thought I had built up to protect me. I am now alone with my feelings and it’s terrifyingly daunting.
Keeping myself seemingly stable is taking up a rather large portion of energy, I stay away more than I used to. If I were to stay in most of the social situations I find myself in, I would say some incredibly hurtful things and definitely damage more relationships than I would by steering clear of company.
I need to talk to therapist about the dead brother. I ended up going taking a box of his pictures and books to my apartment and going through them with a friend on Saturday night. After getting to the bottom of the box, I felt hungry. It doesn’t make sense to me but I was happy I wanted to eat something.
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Dear ATP,
Surprise, surprise: I want to talk about me again. Sorry. I had a big response to "New Beth" (three responders is big for my blog), and you were the only one who understood how important the façade is. How sometimes we need to be the created self who we control rather than the real self who controls us.
Maybe it's not bad to save other people's feelings by not expressing all of ours (except on our blogs, of course). Maybe the façade saves our own sanity, too.
So hold on to New ATP (the façade you built to protect yourself) as hard as you can. The armor just might be supporting you.
I used to care so much about being authentic, and now I'm not sure that's safe.
That said, I'd also like to point out that you could never say anything to make me stop being your friend. Sorry to disappoint, but I have a thick skin, a quick forgiveness reflex, and a very deep need to talk about contemporary young Latter-day Saint social dynamics ad nauseum. You're not getting rid of me that easily.
Love,
Beth
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