#youdon'tknowme

[judyys-world]

[purplehazetodaze]

Restless Soul

My mind is stirring with so many thoughts. I’ve got so many goals, and so many plans, but it’s hard to get them executed, especially when I’m living amongst toxicity. My parents, always talking and whispering about me... always bad it seems. Judging me and criticizing me. Never truly understanding me. Such is the life of one like me who lives doomed to be misunderstood. Damn mental illness. And if you let people know you’re mentally ill, it just gives them more of a reason to shake their head at you and not understand you. Just say, “oh well, it’s just her craziness that makes her like that.” Or whisper, “She’s sooo fucked up!” in their cruelest tones. And these are people that supposedly *LOVE* you. Wow. With friends like that, who needs enemies right? I’mma just let it all hang out now, bitches. Who cares? Maybe I’m really losing my mind now. Maybe I really am losing my g-d mind. Damn yo.

[popcouples]

“Stop.”

“I’m serious. You don’t know me.”

“Yep, you keep tellin' yourself that.”

[tx-chainsaw-mascara]

Whats hidden in your dark place?

Let’s start this one off by saying that when I insist people not compliment me, I am not being coy and trying to fish for more praise. I am asking you to keep your opinion on a trait, usually one that I already resent, to yourself.

I don’t want to know how you feel about my looks or my intelligence, wit, wardrobe, or whatever else. Chances are, that the things you’ve noticed about me all come from a shallow and passive place. You don’t actually know anything about me or my life. You are clueless about the events and circumstances that have shaped the way I see the world around me every day and will continue to be so. That’s okay, I’m not holding it against you. That is unless of course, you’ve just told me how offensive it is that I didn’t accept your flattery. You’ve turned a polite but somewhat uncomfortable social interaction into something that causes both of us to feel affronted in some way.

Why?

What is it about you, and you’re praise that is so special that I am missing out on by being “dismissive?” Did some one send you to validate my entire existence by calling me ‘beautiful,’ no, they did not. You’re not about to get me published because you think I’m smart and you find the things I say funny or poignant. You’re not going to get me signed with a modelling agency or get me a movie role because you think I’m beautiful, graceful or classy. What you think, is what you think. You’ve been heard and I politely told you that flattery makes me uncomfortable and I’m not very good at accepting praise,especially when you put me on the spot in a group of people. You’ve already made me uncomfortable, now you’re going even further for calling me ungrateful, or a bitch because I came across as dismissive and I’m supposed to just get over my hangups to prepare myself for future unwanted flattery because you’ve set out to make me feel worse about turning it away now? Are you trying to talk me into liking you, being comfortable with you, trusting you? What do you think you’re going to accomplish?

I’ll tell you what you’ve actually managed to do, you’ve reminded me that I have no control over how others use my body. You made my discomfort with the flesh prison I never wanted about you, and claimed that my rejection was more offensive to you than your disregard was to me. Here is what you need to consider before you make the scene you’re about to make.

I deeply resent what I look like to begin with, it’s always gotten me attention I didn’t want from people I didn’t want it from. I had something people wanted and someone took it without giving me an option in the matter, when I tried to assert my control over the situation and report it, I didn’t get any validation or control. I just wound up with a larger group of people poking and prodding at me, making me feel even more violated and exposed, implying that I in some way “asked for” or “invited” what happened to me. I was thirteen, I’m pretty sure that I didn’t even know what I was “asking for” until someone came along and gave it to me. Every aspect of my character and personality was dissected and analyzed for someone else’s benefit, as if I were an inanimate object that can be rationalized and quantified, like I had no dimension or depth.

At the end of all that, I had no self worth, I found joy in nothing. I’ve had problems with food, self harm, alcohol. I had to work so hard to build up to having friends, a relationship with my family, boyfriends, lovers. Any remotely healthy relationship, none of which actually wound up being healthy, all of which succeeded in making me more jaded and disillusioned. I had to overcome so much before I could accept a hug from someone I was supposedly comfortable with, without cringing. I still flinch when someone touches me by surprise and I’m 28 now. I had to spend years building confidence and building this protective layer around me to keep the bad away. The last thing I need is for someone to get pushy with me about something so trivial as a compliment.

I don’t need you making a scene because I asked you to stop trying to flatter me, I don’t need you drawing more attention to my discomfort, and I don’t need you to make me understand anything. I know what I look like, I don’t need to be told. I need you to respect my space and acknowledge that I’ve lived an entire life which you know nothing about, and though that life is none of your concern it has shaped the way I’m interacting with you in the present. Telling me what I look like to you is not a way to start a conversation with me, telling me that I seem intelligent as you sit down next to me for the first time doesn’t mean anything because I haven’t even “offended” you yet, and making a scene because I had the nerve to dismiss all of your awesomeness; it’s not going to make me continue talking to you.

And my ‘friends’ who happen to think that my averse reactions to compliments are amusing, you’re clearly not very good friends and probably don’t have the patience to listen to me explain why I resent my appearance. So just start acting like a friend and accept my need to control the way people talk to me, because if I wanted it, I’d ask you for it.

[free-to-be-me50]

If you want to know how a black person feels about any situation, try asking them. Why are you so quick to claim reverse racism. By the way you’ve never had the opportunity to walk in my shoes, and you know what they say when you ASSUME. Your reaction is proving the obvious.

[gillandaris]

Introduction

“My name is Gillandaris vel Jendahr and I swear my life into Halone’s service. From this day forward, every action I take will be to further Her will.” That was the oath I swore to Halone after she saved my life that night. She only said she need my stronger to serve her, and I have been training for Her ever since. As soon as I could, I left home to train as a dragoon. I spend a lot of time polishing lances and mucking chocobo stables. Truly, I don’t mind spending so much time in the stables. Yet I wonder if this training will really make me stronger for Halone. I do watch the other dragoons in the practice ring and am finding I can spot weaknesses among the others, yet how can I be stronger if I am never pitted against them? Ser Alberic did train the Azure Dragoon, and I suppose I shall trust in his techniques a while longer. I know not how much longer I can bear the monotony.

[thesoundofmyhead]

“Inspirai. Espirai. Mi sembrava di impazzire. Mi succedeva spesso.”

[spinningbirdtrick]

Real Talk 2

Here's another tricky bit of what I can't answer ... How do you deal with constantly being pushed into awkward social situations?

Like you're okay with not being able to talk to anyone but over time you're wondering if you're where you should be. 

Awkward silence is always pleasant but it'd be nice to be able to talk about something because I want to talk about it. Not because "it suits the situation". I just end up with 1 word answers. Like I don't even have a mind of my own.

That seems stupid huh?