Beginning in the Middle

From a very young age I knew that something was off. I didn't know what it was or why it was but I just never felt like I didn't "fit" anywhere. "Everyone feels like that when they're young" is a common phrase that I've heard many times. I also got told that I would need to "toughen up", a lot. I would burst into tears and have full-blown meltdowns over the most minor things, or for seemingly no reason at all.

Even as a young adult in college the well meaning people in my life would proffer all the usual advice about stress reduction and making friends that seemed to work for everyone else. I tried, goodness knows I tried. All the techniques, all the forms of exercise, the meditation styles, joining groups pertaining to my special interests. I had a couple of friends, mostly acquaintances, but beyond that it was too overwhelming to maintain so many relationships.

I've always been labeled as "sensitive" and that was blamed for most of my inappropriate crying jags and meltdowns that made no sense to anyone. Eventually I gained enough self awareness to realize it was a "me" problem and somehow figured out how to bury it and mask what I was struggling with well enough for people to think that I had grown out of it. That is until it became too much and what I had been repressing burst out of me like a volcano. This would usually happen at a very inopportune moment and would completely take everyone off-guard since it usually had nothing at all to do with what was currently happening.

As you can image, I grew into an equally sensitive adult who couldn't stay at a job for more than three years, max. At some point it would become too much. Maintaining social relationships with co-workers, office politics and gossip, the ever increasing demands of the job, the eventual promotion to some sort of senior associate role which I was in no way equipped to handle emotionally or socially. I could do the job, of course, I could always do the job. It was everything else that went along with it that I couldn't handle.

It would inevitably reach a point when the panic attacks would start, then the shutdowns, and finally the meltdowns. And suddenly I could maintain the appearance of someone who could "handle it" no longer. At first I would only show signs of it at home, but eventually it would happen at work and that's when I would become a "problem" for my employers. As the years went on I started trying to communicate what I was struggling with but it was always met with "we're all dealing with the same issues, you just have figure it out or let it go".

So, once again, I tried all the things. I did more meditation, read more self-help books, tried new hobbies, tried exercising more, drinking more water, all the apps! Whatever I thought might have the slightest chance of helping me navigate day to day life with less overwhelm and self-loathing. Some things got a little bit better, for a little while at least. And then those things that helped, suddenly stopped helping and instead added to the feeling of overwhelm.

Now you may wonder, dear reader, how I never realized before the age of 36 that I might have been neurodivergent. Well, I suppose it's mostly because all the messaging that was out there while I was growing up said that unless you couldn't talk by the right age, were doing poorly in school, unable to sit still in your chair, or overly angry all the time then you were just a "normal" kid dealing with "normal" kid things. Yeah, I was more sensitive than the majority of my classmates, but I would grow out of that I was assured by every adult I knew. I just needed to work on it and try harder.

Guess what, we were all wrong. It has taken two years of therapy, unlocking several decades worth of repressed memories and feelings and many hours of reflection and journaling to flush out the what and the why so that I can finally (finally!) become my true self. I've often felt broken and undeserving of so much because I've always felt like a burden to those around me. I hated myself for being the ticking time bomb that no one knew when it would go off next. Not being able to tell if my friends were really friends or just putting up with me because I was there. Being used for my aptitude for details until I became a burden and then being left to flounder even when I reached out for help.

I really do have the best support system now though, seriously. I am the luckiest woman on earth. Having been together since my freshman year of college my husband has seen me at my worst and been with me through this whole messy journey of discovery. He cheers me on every step of the way and now I'm finally at a point where I can be there for him. More fully and deeply than I ever thought I would be able to be. I'm also lucky to have family around me who support me. They might not always understand what I'm dealing with in the same way he can, but they love me unconditionally and are always there.

I'm also lucky enough to have found, after much trial and error, a job that I'm happy to report is still going strong two years in. It's not been without its ups and downs, but I've come a long way and I now have coworkers and superiors who not only care about my wellbeing but have enthusiastic worked WITH me so that I can become the best version of myself. For everyone including myself.

For those of you who've not yet started this journey of discover or are already on your way like me, I hope that I can give you hope and encouragement. Until next time, lots of light and love to you friends 🤗✨️💛

Thank you for visiting, fellow Muser! I hope you have a wonderfully creative and peaceful day! 🤗✨️💛