Sorry. . And the song, it plays again
I’ve been told by others that I apologise way more than is necessary Beautiful relationships, flowing self-doubt and uncertainty, people pleasing, never feeling ‘enough’
Apologise less. Be, more (Hamilton - style)
Saying Sorry
It almost feels like a built-in system and I am working on going over these, desperate-feeling, self-shaming and wounded - apologies,
less.
Like a guttural force. An instinct.
A reflex, without thinking.
I will take the blame and it’s my ‘fault’.
Never giving myself the time to wonder,
Is this something worthy of saying sorry for?
..
.
Am I overthinking and dwelling on the heaviness of my, perceived, ‘failure’?
Am I people pleasing?
Scared I won’t be liked?
Do I feel unsafe?
..
Often, my sorry’s reverberate both mentally (in deep shame) and physically through me, in stomach-knocking, dread.
The spirals bounce in and out of my awkward mouth like cows chewing, and re-digesting, grass.
Not sure if that’s even a true analogy.
..
Always there.
Five times a minute, for several minutes.
After I interrupted somebody once.
..
Now, I keep reviewing and analysing my ineptitude, drawing attention to my lack of value (not true) and shaming myself publicly.
We are all human.
I am interested in what the person was saying. Enjoying the connection, and afraid of forgetting the thought I felt alive around..
Then, deep dread at my impulse and destroying the essence of who I am.
..
I, calmly, am sorry I interrupted. I was enjoying this vibe and connection. I felt fired-up by my momentary addition to it all.
I want to talk to you.
I, also, do want to listen and care about who you are. Especially, if I’m buzzing off the solidarity of our similarities, sarcasm, humour - and relating to one another.
..
Am I making myself more important than I am and do I have a superiority complex?
These are the things I wonder.
..
Above my station?
I might want to encourage.
Is that patronising?
I don’t want others to feel unheard.
But, my internal dialogue around this is an example of how we can be unkind to ourselves.
..
Should I, not, have said that?
Unwarranted ‘advice’
That thing that might have sounded blunt.
I could say something I wish I’d known.
Or that could help, if you aren’t already aware of it. A way of doing something. A loop or workaround. The name of something that could help, or the name of someone I follow, who gives great suggestions, info, is funny etc.
When people say that they might be seeking an ADHD diagnosis, for example, I deeply care about it and I want to know their story. How they feel.
I get drawn in to the dopamine buzz of telling my story, then wonder if I’m selfish.
Saying things that I was grateful to read online beforehand or, how it felt for me.
At times, I might seem self-obsessed.
I might fixate on things, but if I see a kindred spirit, I mean well and hope that someone, potentially, understanding themselves more, can help with their inner relationship.
Does that sound arrogant?
so much shame
Back to that
Sorry. Sorry.
(Five minutes later, when the conversation has moved on)
Again, I apologise about before.
The pause button is stuck and I’m in shame.
It can be something so insignificant.
I say something in error, or go to let go of a door without seeing a person a few steps behind.
I am sorry and I care.
It is not worthy of layering myself up in self-loathing and torment, but worthy (perhaps), of a human and genuine (albeit, brief) moment.
Change the record.
Has too much time passed for me to apologise?
I could play that song on loop for days.
(No fun to listen to, either
Unless you’re an ADHDer with a new hyper focus! A track that you love the beat of, and the lyrics, for.
If it, literally, is a song)
I have a habit of over-repeating my apology.
Habits can be changed.
The ogre, and walking mistake, that I am!
All the aspects of myself that I’ve been trained to apologise for have caused me so much pain.
This plays into it all.
Who I am.
The too-muchness.
The excitement.
It’s all way beyond.
My soul and being are issues.
Problematic.
And let’s preempt that before others, notice.
There is a fear that saddens me.
(And most people don’t think that deeply about anything I say or do).
I don’t apologise for my excitement now. Or, at least, much more rarely.
I might say sorry, briefly, if something felt inappropriate or insensitive, but who I am, I can’t.
Can’t say sorry for that.
..
Sorry
Sorry
Sorry
like an echo
..
I try to only say it once.
Fighting the urge.
A lot of my saying sorry has been to help me feel safe.
Wanting the calmness of knowing that the other person didn’t hate me.
Tolerating the fact that they will have their own feelings - or won’t.
It hurts.
But, we get there..
..
My people pleasing probably says way more about me and my internal self-loathing, than the other person.
Although, being around people that feel more like home, helps.
It’s pain and wanting a fix.
I.want.this.sick.feeling.and.anxiety.to.stop.
Shutting down the over-running and unkind voice in my head is easier said than done.
I try.
It feels good to do it.
..
And, I suppose, noticing a lot of it helps.
Not normalising my inner-dialogue and re-integrating the cruelty, but realising that this is something to work on.
In the past, I have felt that I have to ‘work’ to get someone to love me.
I don’t want to have to persuade, anyway.
What does that, even, mean?
I tried to be my ‘best’, ‘perfect’ self so that you cared and you, sort-of, did.
Being myself and them being there - that matters.
..
I try and be around more people who see and appreciate me for who I am.
In the past, I’ve struggled with letting anyone help me with a broken bag, lifting something heavy, or, even, with making me a tea when I need one.
I’d say no, never yes.
..
Now, I try and let people show me kindnesses in little ways. And let them sink in more freely.
(This isn’t even showing people the deepest parts of me that I’ve felt are ‘broken’*)
I was given some daffodils in spring, because I might enjoy them and these thoughtful moments, or remembering things I like or worry about, mean the world.
..
Stating who I am. Yes.
Following it with (repetitive sorry’s) that kill and suppress beautiful parts of me, NO.
I can do that less. It feels disloyal to myself and my heart.
That’s a good space to work from.
If I say sorry, I don’t need to wallow in it. Grovel. Chastise myself.
It can be a word - genuine and meant. But, not a prolonged one-way conversation where I pull myself apart and destroy all that feels like Me.
People usually don’t worry about a thing I said once, years ago, as much as I might
I do, often, reflect on mistakes I have made, that many wouldn’t even be remembering. My brain has a lovely way of offering up those moments of joy!
I try and push them on.
This is what my brain is telling me.
See ya!
The ‘superbness’ of my brain means that it recycles things as embarrassing that weren’t much of a big deal. Or, maybe, just for a split second.
When someone gets it. And says
‘You don’t have to apologise with me’..
*I’m not broken
Thousands.
Twenty Thousand After the number of negative or corrective messages an ADHD child receives by the age of ten / think I may have seen some say twelve. (William Dodson) Twenty thousand Invertebrates Beautiful souls, caring Wanting to meet acceptance