#inanis post

It blows my mind that I have this constant feeling that I have to beg to other people to give me what they receive from me for free.

"Well, that's where you're wrong. You have to stop begging, the right people won't make you work for their love." Blah blah blah stop wasting (your) energy on the wrong people blah blah blah the right people will come into (your) life blah blah blah.

Okay.

I already stopped wasting my energy on the wrong people. I have many acquaintances, many shared interest friends, very very few I consider close to me, none of them is meeting my most intimate needs.

Where are these "right people" I've been told about? For all I know everyone is "wrong" because nobody seems to be doing any kind of inner work - so it already tells me, if we end up connecting at all, I'll be delegated a lot of the emotional labour. For two people.

So I'm not supposed to expect "myself" from others. I'm not supposed to expect to find other givers, other emotionally mature people, other people who prioritize relationships in their lives. Alright.

The message I'm getting is this: "Won't you please be more flexible? Everyone is trying their best! You have to try to be more understanding because people are struggling."

Get help? Go to therapy? Find resources in your community? That's what I did. That's what I still do.

I'm not dead weight expecting for other to carry me around. Why the fuck am I supposed to carry dead weight around?

Is the problem really that I'm being too inflexible and stubborn in my values and boundaries, so much that I don't let anyone close, or is that the people in my surroundings are an actual drain on my health because I feel like I need to be a parent, caregiver, therapist or cheerleader?

It implies, I guess, a level of desire or interest in you, in the first place (I'm not talking about romantic love necessarily, as this applies to any kind of relational dynamic). As if once you cease pouring in the connection you'll be flooded with complaints, resentment or remarks. In my case, people simply moved on and I was the one who had to adjust.

It hurts.

As if it doesn't matter whether I show up or not, it's like I don't exist.

Like two parallel lines that never really touch, no matter how much effort I put into closing the gap. Once I stop, the other line seem to keep on going, unchanging.

Maybe this is other people's own abandonment wounds, and their own defenses and ways to cope. Expecting someone to drop the ball and leave them, so why even bother? Why make an effort, right? This is an explanation for their behaviour, it doesn't make it a good thing though.

In regards to close, deep connections, it's hard to feel like I don't belong anywhere and I keep on having to do life on my own. I use copious amounts of patience and "giving it time" to try and deepen my current connections but when I pause and observe, I feel like I'm being left behind.

This is on me, obviously. Being around people who don't reciprocate is not good for me. I really have to move on and be open to finding new people, but it's hard to do that. I'm exhausted.

I'm old enough. I've met enough new people. I've tried enough new things. I've gone to enough new places. I think I've done much more than I actually, physically, could.

Receiving reciprocity from my connections feels like chasing a fantasy.

It's quite bleak when I think back and realize how innocently focused on romance I was, when the issues ran deep, deep down. Like the goal posts kept moving and here we are.

With the knowledge and awareness of having done enough, I guess I can sit down in silence and cry for once? Because even if you do all the right things, it still doesn't guarantee that you will form close bonds with others.

To me, I guess one of the differences between that and, for example, becoming disabled despite your best efforts (and being shocked it still happened to you any way), is that socializing and connecting with others feel like it's something I can have any control over the outcomes. I'm aware I can just become permanently bedridden at any point for any reason and there's no amount of taking care of myself or self-love that can change this reality. I don't fight it, in the same way I don't really fight my current disabilities as much anymore, I know they fluctuate but they'll always impact my quality of life and that impact will increase the older I get, for example.

Maybe this is exactly how I feel about my connections right now.

It's disabling in a way that feels as if it gets harder to cope with the older I get. This is even more true when I think about things in a more logistical way. Sure I can't let myself feel like my life is on hold until I'm in a relationship or have close, trustworthy friends locally, but my life is on hold a little bit because of that, isn't it? For example, experiencing poverty while having a support system is a lot different than experiencing it on your own. When my friends need support, they go to their families and partners; when I need support, I seek for community services.

Could I not ask my friends for support? I could. Depending on the kind of support, I know they would help, but the kind of support they would help me with is already something I can take care of by myself. I don't think my friends are equipped to help with basic needs, and we're not close enough to share the responsibilities - as would be the case with, for example, close friends, families and partners.

The next step has probably to do with acceptance, again.

Maybe I'm in a better mind space for it now, since I can actually recognize all the work I've been doing as "good enough" or even as a lot more than what I'm capable of. Like I can put my tools down and well, what can we do now?

But it's ironic though. I have seasonal depression and it's the worse it's ever been, even though the weather isn't terribly triggering. I've been sick and in a lot of pain lately and I'm hoping really hard that I don't improve (on top of the suicidal ideation being back, full force). The lack of support is really the cherry on top, isn't it?

There's something about "you've been through this enough times, and you'll get through it again" that feels so sinister. It's all work, effort, motion, introspection and there's no resting. The thought of dying gives me so much comfort and I really hope it happens sooner rather than later.

I already feel invisible enough.

And my pain is made so much worse when I know people care about me and they remember me, because I have a light that shines very bright and unapologetically - I worked hard to get it! - but it's not really enough for the connection to feel reciprocal to me.

I don't have the energy or the drive to search any more.

I've met enough people.

It's all very similar. I can blame "culture" or "social media" all I want and it won't really change things, or change how I feel.

I have never been loved, cared for, or considered in a way that felt meaningful to me. This is a lot to grief. It's a lot to heal from, too.

I need to believe really hard in hope. And find anything, no matter how small, that can keep me going.

You know it's ironic that people are living through hyper-individualistic times, in cultures and environments that support (and reward) hustling, to the detriment of building communities, villages, where everyone seems too tired to change, and default to protecting their individual peace as a self-love and healing strategy.

One cannot bother being inconvenienced or in discomfort. Passivity might feel easier, you might become apathetic, since things just work out in the end, or they don't, but you're not too worried about it either way.

Other than showing up and putting on the effort so you're able to attract the exact thing (and people) you want, you have to be able to give grace, and move on accordingly. Understanding that many people are not willing to deal with the discomfort or inconvenience it takes. That's their own right.

This is true for all kinds of relationships, but especially closer ones.

I guess existing in groups makes socializing easier in a lot of different ways: it can be low-commitment, low-effort, low-maintenance, low-energy. It's good to have groups, and to maintain a healthy community, of course. For me, it's an environment that fosters surface-level relationships. You gain associates, acquaintances and friends, but there are gaps, there are lines you're not supposed to cross.

Quality, meaningful relationships, to me, are filled with depth and, especially, consistency: they're high-commitment, high-effort and high-maintenance - this does not mean "talking to someone every day", you can still have superficial relationships with people you talk to and see everyday; it means all parts are pouring onto the connection, there's reciprocity.

After leaving, and having silence as my answer to where some of my relationships stand, I have had 2 people check on me. The first said the line opening this post, the second was "thinking about (me)" after finally noticing my absence.

I appreciate both, I really do, but it still hurts to feel neglected when I know it's lopsided: no one thinks anything is particularly wrong because they didn't feel particularly close to me in the first place, on the contrary, I might have kept them at a distance. Maybe I was not being friendly enough, or clear enough with my communication, or expressive enough, or just not performing and masking properly, etc.

You tell me you are thinking of me, maybe even that you miss me and I see little effort on your end to either be a part of my life, or let me be a part of yours. Because we're all functioning in a community/group setting, the stakes are low, so there's no need to prioritize individuals at the expense of the "group".

This passivity and non-action upsets me now. I'm thankful it finally does.

I think it's unacceptable that I have gave so much. I dare to say I have loved and cared for people unconditionally, because that's exactly how I wish to be treated. I expected nothing back, and had my heart broken over and over again. I gave second chances, and more. I've tried being patient, understanding, accommodating... you name it. I fought for people and for connections that were dying or dead already, because in my heart, it was worth it.

But I guess I finally learned.

The quality of the relationships I need, want and seek have everything to do with consistency and reciprocity, more than with "words of affirmation" or sporadic actions. It has intent. My "very high standards" are something as basic as me asking to be prioritized, not as an "afterthought" or "side character" in someone else's story, but as an individual with needs and feelings, to whom someone is an active participant in a mutual connection.

I can probably finally stop wasting my time and energy now, while I still seek connections but remain observant of others' intentions and priorities. I can always turn that energy inwards.

Ultimately, it doesn't really translate into real life experiences all that well.

I noticed, personally, the more work I've done on my self, the more isolated I felt. It was true in the past and it's even worse now. Now I have very low tolerance for dysfunction and unhealthy patterns, to the point I'm not really very "flexible" with people. For example: it doesn't take me a long time to notice when someone is shallow or inconsistent, for whatever reason, and I do not waste my time.

I keep hearing about once you're past the "worst" aspects of the self-growth journey, your relationships will "bloom". Because you have discernment, because you know what you want, you know your patterns and you are able to see other people's patterns.

The reality tells me otherwise.

In the end of the day, there's so many conflicting messages: be the bigger person, reach out first, but look for reciprocity and if it doesn't exist, then you can move on; you do move on and you're supposed to keep yourself open, and find other people, make new friends, even challenge yourself to do things and go places you'd not normally do.

It's all you, you, you.

You fix it, you go after it, and keep fighting, and keep healing, and if it's not working then you need to do something else. You are the common denominator in your relationship issues, in your disconnection and in your isolation and aloneness.

It really hits me when I feel I've been doing the work already, and it's not really been worthwhile.

In my therapist's eye, it's because I'm "stuck" on the same places, seeing the same people. But the reason I'm doing that it's because that's what's more comfortable and accessible to me. I tried the whole "do lots of things, meet lots of people" already. I've been trying that for years. It wastes an tremendous amount of energy - both physical and psychological as well - for very little reward.

It makes sense that I stop "giving" altogether.

It makes sense that I start looking more and more like the very people I'm walking away from, except I'm not really bothering others or "taking". I'm just doing my own thing, on my own at this point.

If I look at it all, make it all less personal, I can notice how interactions and bonds play out in real life. How connections form and are maintained and how much of that I want to take part into - spoilers: I really don't. Healthy relationships (of any kind) are very few and far in between. It's disconcerting to see people, seemingly, unable to grasp at bare minimum concepts like "communication" and "consistency".

It almost feels like I'm going crazy.

But no, it's just that I've been in therapy. I have been doing a lot of work for many years, by myself and with professionals, work to heal my traumas, learn ways to deal with my conditions and just trying to grown as a person in a way that's good for me. Even if it's hard.

What I see out there is a bunch of hurt people hurting other people, unconsciously.

This is why I feel like I won't really meet many eye to eye, because yes, most people you will meet out there will not do "the work". It's too uncomfortable, too inconvenient and costly. And, to me, doing the work means I navigate the world feeling alienated but over time the alienation started feeling more like alignment, and living my values, respecting my boundaries, etc.

I think more than being proactively the person I wish to have in my life, that can also be done reactively, and passively. The former meaning my behaviours, responses and actions will reflect what's around me - this is where, I think, things like being flexible are a huge asset - and the latter meaning I get to be an observer, watcher, on top of already being a listener, among other things.

The ways these things can be implemented in my current life will not be necessarily harmful, because they're not coming from a need to survive, to cope or to people-please (at least not anymore).

If "action" is fostering things like resentment and burnout, isn't it good to sit down and stop trying for a while?

The issue that worried me was the fact that many people are not proactive themselves - that's probably the reason I was doing all the heavy lifting - so I'll sit down alone, and I'll remain alone. And we don't want that, right?

I guess a change can happen now that I have much more clarity and understanding.

Part of that clarity is acknowledging that I was in connections alone.

If stop pulling the weight for two people, the connection dies. If I stop initiating, the connection dies. If I stop checking in, the connection dies. If I stop accepting breadcrumbs, the connection dies. The list goes on. Relationships require work from both sides. You cannot nurture it alone, you cannot repair it alone, you cannot do connection on your own. I think the reason doesn't really matter, and trying to rationalize the "why" will not be very helpful for me, so I won't do that.

The other thing about clarity, and this is more specific about proactivity, is that in the same way I reach out and chased, others can reach out and chase me too. But, again, I'm talking and dealing with a culture/society of people who are, more often than not, passive. So no, they will not do the heavy lifting. The reason here doesn't matter either.

Another thing about clarity is acknowledging myself. Acknowledging all the work and effort, years and money I pour onto bettering myself, for my own sake and for the sake of my relationships too. It's understanding my limitations - knowing when I can push, when I have to pause, or when I have to actually stop. It's about being thankful for all I've done, knowing that I've done more than enough for a lifetime, and recognizing the work isn't ever going to be complete (and that's not a bad thing). Yes, I can still try a million different things but I think I've really done enough and I cannot control stuff like timing, luck and other people.

Lastly, it's clarity about hope. But this one is a little bit tricky because where do I draw the line on "manifestation" and having a positive attitude X falling onto fortune-telling and delusion? I'm not sure yet but I know I can at least try. I can try to make my hope less proactive and more observant, I can try to find other things to occupy my mind that are not related to connections and still be open to them anyway, because I still have hope.

In the same way I have spent so long practicing becoming more proactive and going after what I want, it might be good to slow down and actually take a break, knowing that it will not play out as it have in the past, because I'm not a merely receptacle, desperate for validation or attention, I'm not empty, and I know exactly what I want, what my values are and where my boundaries lie.

And I really want to believe that.

What ends up happening in reality, though, is me becoming increasingly more emotionally unavailable and an "avoidant" of sorts: what's the point to keep on pouring and keep on taking that first step when I always end up starved in connections, right? So it's good to stop, and look elsewhere... except "elsewhere" isn't that much different, people still take and do not give back. My part here is to not give freely then, not anymore.

As I work on decentering connections and relationships so I can try to have any semblance of a better quality of life, I stop reaching out, I stop performing, I stop inviting myself - I'm welcomed but never really invited, there's a huge difference there. My phone is dead quiet, complete silence, no messages, not a single person to check on me (other than my internet friends who have been always very wonderful, and I'm thankful for them).

When I talked to some partnered friends, and employed ones as well, there that sense of them pitying me because of my circumstances but, of course, this is all in my head and it's completely baseless, right? When I look them in the eyes and they have that "oh you poor thing" look, it's definitely me reading too much into nothing, right? Sometimes even going as far as saying "wow, that really sucks" but they are not compelled to help in any meaningful way. I don't want someone to be with me out of pity, or wanting to help me as a way to make themselves feel better, if they're in a "better" situation than me. It annoys me way too much - no, I don't want to explain to you how much queerphobia and ableism have an impact in my life, or poverty, or housing instability, or the lack of a support system. Figure. It. Out. Leave me alone.

"Yeah, I don't have an emergency contact."

I'm my own family, my own partner, I'm my own support system. When push comes to shove I cannot trust or rely on people who have showed me, over and over, how consistently inconsistent they are.

So I let them go.

I have done this before, but I guess the difference is that now I'm actually closing the door behind me, maybe even locking it. Instead of leaving them open for these people to come and go at their convenience.

What about my convenience? What about I say "no" to this low-effort kind of connections?

"Well, then you won't have any friends."

Oh but I'll still have friends, plenty of friends. Friendships at this day and age are extremely low-effort, very shallow. This is probably because of the fact that I have no been prioritized in my own friendships, which is fine.

I know my friends won't reach out or check on me, I know my friends won't go the extra mile or do even half of the things I have done for them, and that's fine.

I know on their end our connection will always be preserved, because they know my kindness and patience.

I know my absence might cause sadness and have people wondering about me.

And I also know that none of these things have made me feel valued, seen or prioritized in my relationships. So I think it's fair to close (and lock) those doors, huh?

...

I wonder about the love and care I put out there and when will it come back to me, but now I feel less inclined to do it.

Journaling is one of the tools many professionals recommend people use to externalize and take a look at what goes inside one's head. It can work pretty well and, well, there's not really any "side effects", except there are...

At some point, I have already noticed that journaling was either triggering and/or feeding on rumination and obsessive thoughts: obsessively trying to rationalize, find options and solutions, find ways to get through things, obsessively dissect every single emotion, trying to get the the very essence, trying to get to the bottom of things, so I can finally find some solace or comfort or whatever will relieve the mental agony.

When I didn't let myself journal in the last couple of days, I actually caught myself with obsessive thoughts, falling into spirals and loops and unable to leave for a long time. After all, I'd just journal them away and the thoughts would finally leave my head. In theory, externalizing is good for me; in practice what was happening is me getting stuck on a cycle of rumination and obsessive thoughts, so I journal, feelings and thought calm down, then it happens again, over and over.

The giveaway was the topic: the exact same thing, every time. No real "solution", no working options either, just the same thoughts, from the same triggers, the same everything.

When I actually had to sit with all those thoughts and feelings, and not journal, I'm immediately hit with the reality of completely overlooking (and dare I say, forgetting) I have OCD.

The obsessive thoughts, the rumination, what have you... are all about connection, relationships and my social health (or lack of, thereof). It is, currently, the main area of concern in my life where I feel I have some control over the outcomes, except... I really don't.

Just like with my queerness, just like with my disabilities and neurodivergencies, just like with my living circumstances, I do the best I can with what I have, considering all my limitations and capacity.

That goes for connections too.

I am also doing the best I can, but somehow it never felt like enough. Maybe I can try something different, maybe I can meet more people, maybe I can do X, Y or Z... and surely, maybe I can, but I am exhausted, I'm burnt out, and ironically, the resentment builds up quickly, probably, because I was not listening to my own body, and not realizing my own mind was stuck in a loop.

So what am I doing now?

I recognize and acknowledge I've been doing the best I can with the skills and tools I already have, and more, and I have limited time, energy, money, etc. I cannot force connection, I cannot control it either, I can only help my odds, and even that is not a guarantee. I look for reassurance elsewhere as well, I see people in similar predicaments, with similar living experiences, who are doing so much more than me and getting no results as well: people who "put themselves out there" and go on dates, trying to find a life partner; and others who have been investing a lot to find meaningful friendships, but not even being met halfway. If they're doing so much more than me and are still not getting results, I think it's fair that I can blame something like "culture", the patriarchy, capitalism, whatever it is.

With that in mind, I can actually tell myself it's time to take a break, or pause. And then I try to go do something else with myself. Something that is not related with connection. I still do the same things, I'm still social and have my social hobbies, but the mindset is very different now: I don't prioritize connection anymore than I prioritize any other thing. I come first, my hobbies, interests and passions are up there too... and there's relationships. Again, reminding myself I am already doing what I can, and have been doing so for a very long time.

I laugh a little bit a about it now when I stop to think about it - and even journaling, right now - because it's a symptom. Because a lot of that mental anguish and me being unable to let go or find relief is literally a symptom. This is already a very exhausting and demanding predicament, and OCD somehow makes it 10x worse. It is really tough.

But I'm glad I've figured it out.

The fact that I am, quite literally, wasting my kindness, care and effort on people who will not reciprocate, but somehow I stay, because I'm stuck on their potential, kindness and niceness... but those are not indicative of relational reciprocity. It truly is a waste of time/energy that I'm unwilling to acknowledge.

It really does not matter how much I try to reframe this on "setting the standards" and "treating others how I want to be treated", I am treating people who, over and over, have showed me where they stand, what they're capable of and how much they're willing to invest in me.

Their investment is nonexistent, or it's on a convenience's basis, either way, the amount I offer and the amount I receive is very, very mismatched.

I guess, because my bar/standards/investment are real high, I naturally choose to make compromises.

I try to be understanding, flexible, accommodating, and so on. Because I can afford it, because I have the emotional maturity, availability and capacity for that.

But that's probably, ultimately, a trap I fall onto every single time.

My "high" standards are nearly impossible for people to reach. I'm well aware of that, and I make sacrifices in order to connect, and to remain connected. Always the issue of having to meet others in the middle, and them not being able to come to me instead. Or sometimes they do, but it's inconsistent, and unreliable.

I value myself, I value the work I put on myself, I value the time and effort I spend trying to connect even (and especially) when I'm feeling so burnt out and exhausted by disconnection...

It's good to recognize that I'm not being valued in my relationships.

I don't think I'm even considered.

I'm an afterthought albeit someone they know and care about. I'm also so very beloved, but not enough to be valued, or considered enough for the reciprocity to exist.

Relational reciprocity, the bare minimum.

I'm not being valued in my relationships.

Connections where I pour and pour and pour and pour, and I end up starving.

Ah, but maybe the problem is me being too "self-reliant" and "hyper-independent" that I don't let people in, or that teaches them I don't need help.

I'm not asking people to come in, or to help me though.

I expect them to reciprocate.

You see the effort I'm putting here? This is how much I value you, and this is how much I value our connection.