one of the hard things to learn, once you're outside of it, is that people will get upset at you sometimes. sometimes they will be hurt, or disappointed, or frustrated. sometimes you will misunderstand them or they will misunderstand you, sometimes they will disagree with you passionately, sometimes they will just have had a hard day and feel annoyed by pretty much everything.
but people who are good people - the kind of people who you should keep - they do not rely on that feeling to guide them. they understand i'm upset right now. when they lash out, they apologize afterward. they take responsibility. even angry out of their wits, they try not to cross boundaries - they don't say things to hurt you, they don't break your things, they don't make you afraid. they take space or deep breaths or write it down before replying. they work hard to not-be-upset, they return to you and say. okay. i'm sorry i lost my temper, that was really upsetting for me. i'm ready to listen this time, let's solve this as a team.
there is a gripping , soul-crushing fear i have of making someone upset. i catastrophize the situation. being upset is dangerous. is to be solved immediately, regardless of what it takes out of me.
there is no person on earth who can always be happy with you. someone who is never upset with you is likely someone who is pretending. but the hard thing for me to learn was that being upset with me was not a binary love/unlove, friend/enemy. it was not - that person hates you now, forever. it was instead - there's a whole spectrum of use for an apology. my trauma doesn't understand the lighter grey shades at all - the idea someone can have just a passing displeasure because i stepped on their foot or misheard their coffee order. that a person might just be upset at the situation, and not even think to hold it against me.
i used to avoid any contact with a person i thought i had even vaguely upset - interrupting them by accident, or, once, because i had not known about a rare allergy before i made dessert for our company - on the assumption that it was one-and-done. once someone disliked me, it was permanent. or else, maybe worse: i would have to work, tirelessly, wrought over with it, like a sick sad puppy. i would do anything to make the person love me. i didn't make a lot of close friends. i assumed nobody really liked me, because of course they don't, i'm annoying. i wanted to get out of their life before they realized i am worse than they had expected. i wanted to get out before i could prove them right.
i wish i could give you a happy ending to this. i am still carrying it with me. people pleasing. my therapist admits she isn't too surprised ("well, it sort of perfectly fits with your history of trauma and adhd"). i feel rejection like an open wound, all gaping and torn inside me. i hate the idea so much that i simply assume the worst and skitter myself into the dark corners, cowering. thinking - i've done it! i've made everyone safe from me! if i'm in here, and they're out there, they can never be upset with me!
and what kind of a life it is. so safe and so potently lonely.
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