Staying Significant to Yourself

Your Significance Depends On You

Every day, each of us is going through our own stuff, so expecting to matter to anyone but yourself is, I’ve found, a losing proposition. Instead, the focus needs to be on remaining significant to yourself, allowing the rest of the chips to fall wherever they may. The sad fact is, every time I allow myself to let my guard down, believing people are even aware enough of me to respect, or at least notice my feelings, I’m rudely awakened to discover they didn’t even know I’d opened up; instead telling me I don’t allow myself to be vulnerable. What???? It isn’t even intentionally unkind. I simply don’t hit their radar unless I do something glaringly out of character.

I’m beginning to wonder if I’m classically insane; doing the same thing over and over, expecting a different result. Although this time, instead of sticking with my typical MO and pulling back into my turtle shell for awhile, I’ve decided to return to the best therapist I know; my writing. Realizing I’m not going to be significant to someone…anyone else right now, I’m working on being significant to myself, fully and completely.

Therapy By Me and For Me

The thoughts I’m sharing right now may be off-putting to many of you, but I’ve chosen to do it here rather than on social media because, quite frankly, when I write in this, my personal blog, I see no need to filter what I say in any way. I simply must keep it real, authentic, and above all, raw and unpolished (aside from grammar and spelling, of course!). After all, each post is essentially a visit with my therapist who tolerates nothing less than complete honesty, even when it isn’t very pretty.

In the last few days, I’ve whined about going through pretty much all of my major traumas with no significant other, or any kind of support system, while those whose feelings are acknowledged, and who are supported where I’m not seem to have endless support networks at their disposal. Yes, I made it through each trauma, perhaps dented and bruised, and often with another layer of coping mechanisms to work through when things are calmer. But I’m still standing.

I begin to wonder, is it because I keep making it on my own that a support network stays just out of reach of my sometimes desperately grasping fingers? Is it because I’ve healed from 2 family suicides, a grotesquely ugly divorce, and, the latest in a long line of traumas; cancer surgery, which has left me feeling less feminine than ever which leaves others feeling I don’t need a helping, or even just a caring hand? Would it be better to let them see me when I’m ugly crying my way through the latest in a long series of life challenges instead of showing up and getting on with my life?

A Catch-22

The trouble is, the reason I show up…the reason I return to my regular life as soon as I can is because I’m all alone. Getting out into the world as soon as humanly possible after my latest full immersion into the pits of despair is because, often times, it’s the only way I get to be around people, and forget the trials and challenges I’m facing alone, yet again.

I feel like my life is a Catch-22. If I fall apart every time life kicks me in the ribs, waiting for someone to help me up, I’ll probably lie there forever. But if I pick myself up right away, no one will ever think maybe I could use a little compassion. Here’s a fun fact. You know depressed people are really good at hiding the fact they’re depressed, right? Well people who need help, but don’t know how to ask for it are just as good at hiding the fact they’re stumbling around in the dark, and could use someone with a candle to help them find the light switch, if nothing else.

I can pretty much guarantee the feelings I’m sharing in this post are not unique to me. There are at least a couple of you reading, and nodding your heads as you see yourself in the mirror I’m holding up. Perhaps being alone and struggling is the common bond…the common thread I’m seeking, but have yet to find.

What Lurks Behind a Strong Exterior?

It’s not about being strong. There are plenty of strong people in my life who still have a support network. It’s about being strong on the outside, and a puddle of mush on the inside, terrified to stop fighting for fear of sliding down into the abyss…into oblivion. If we at least show up every now and then, there’s a microscopic chance we’ll meet someone who will take our hand and say “let’s help each other be strong through and through instead of just on the outside”.

At this stage in my life, I honestly wish I could let go of that hope I’ve dragged around for decades. Unfortunately, hope springs eternal, even if I eventually take this one, unfulfilled, to my grave.

Finding My Way to Gratitude No Matter What Life Throws at Me

My gratitudes today are:

1. I’m grateful for giving myself a place to be my ugly crying, messy, vulnerable self, even if it’s self-serving.
2. I’m grateful for still being able to drag myself out of the house even if it means putting myself together with bailing wire and duct tape.
3. I’m grateful for being able to find words to explain, even if I can’t find the ones to ask for help, or the right people to ask.
4. I’m grateful for the people who find a little comfort, or connection in my scribbles.
5. I’m grateful for re-discovering how therapeutic writing is for me.

About the Author

Sheri Conaway is a Holistic Ghostwriter, and an advocate for cats and mental health. Sheri believes in the Laws of Attraction, but only if you are a participant rather than just an observer. Her mission is to Make Vulnerable Beautiful and help entrepreneurs touch the souls of their readers and clients so they can increase their impact and their income.