Monday, July 02, 2007

Back Story

There are some parts of my life that I keep to myself. That is the strange thing about me, I think. Perhaps lots of people are like this?

I am so outgoing. I am friendly, I am loud - not to the point of obnoxiousness, though I'm sure some would beg to differ - but I am loud. I am a generous, kind, nice person. But I am also extremely withdrawn. It is a weird trait to have, I think. I can be friends with you for years upon years, and yet you will know absolutely nothing significant about me.

It can take years to get to know me. I keep things so bottled up. I am sure other people are like this, but it is sad when I think about it. How shut down I really am. People I talk to and laugh with really do not know me.

One friend I had, she said to me more than once, "Why don't you let me in? Why don't you talk to me, or tell me anything?" I was closer to this friend, closer to her than anyone I have ever been in a relationship with. And that really struck me. I thought I was being open with her. At the time, I was thinking that I told her everything. And I did tell her so much. But some things I just didn't tell anyone. No one could be trusted.

I think she didn't realize how much of me she knew. But I pick and choose. I pick what people need to know. I pick what people need to understand and learn about me. I feel that this is an advantage for me. In reality, this is probably a hinderance.

If people knew the back story of me, they would surely understand why I am the way I am. They would see what shaped me.

Even here, on this blog, in the world of anonymous, I keep things private. I am either ashamed, embarrassed, or anything else about the things in my life.

This little confessional started by reading The Junkys Wife post about Seroquel. It reminded me of the problems I had weening off of a prescription drug I took. I wanted to write about it. Then I thought, "Then I'll have to share why I took it. Which will lead to the background of that."

Perhaps the point of this is that I realize more about myself the more I write. Don't get me wrong - I know I am the hardest person to get to know. But I learn a little more when I write. It's like little revelations each day.

4 comments:

joy said...

Isn't it funny how that works? Both from writing and reading the things that people say to me in comments, I'm learning so much. It kind of freaks me out...

Anonymous said...

And yet another person has discovered that while we only thought we were indviduals there are so many of us. I am wondering if my dad didn't travel the country before he met my mother and produced a whole bunch of crazy codependent loud yet quite women. The older I get the less I understand. I read your blog constantly and I want you to know that I understand what you are going through, just like JW. If you need an ear, to not tell me things (wink and a smile) I will understand. Come see me sometime.

Mary P Jones (MPJ) said...

I hide from people too, in my writing less so than in person, but in my writing too. I have found recently that sometimes I use humor to mask emotions I haven't dealt with -- it hides the me that's lurking inside.

Anonymous said...

I am just like you but worse. I don't even know myself and won't let myself in..i'm affraid of what i'll find!!