Years of seeking a diagnosis for my autoimmune disease impacted how I feel when I am being questioned about something. I struggle with the initial reflex I have to being questioned regardless of what it is about. I immediately worry that I might not be taken at my word, or that someone’s first instinct is to think I am lying or exaggerating for some ulterior motive. My theory is that this stems from the period of my life where I felt that anything I said that I could not support with evidence was assumed to be untrue. I was told repeatedly by professionals I trusted that I was imagining things and making them seem real to myself. I was questioned about why I needed “extra attention” or why I felt I needed to dramatize things so much. I was told I was to blame and I was choosing to be miserable. The pain from the things that were happening to me, already so hard to define, was compounded by the overwhelming feeling of always needing to show proof to be taken seriously. Gradually, it felt personal. I no longer felt I had to prove something was happening, rather, I had to prove that I was a person worthy of being believed.
It’s very difficult when you’re young and impressionable and you don’t want to seem “other” to anyone. In your early 20’s, when you’re trying to figure out life and you don’t yet have a ton of experience or answers, it’s easy to believe that people who are in positions of power are always right or that they know better than you do. It’s easy to forget that people aren’t always more worthy of that power or authority just because they have it. The damage that can be done to our trust in our own intuition by taking their word over ours is something that remains with us long after we have left them in the rearview of our lives.
Going through the process of being diagnosed made me feel that to be believed about anything, I needed to show several forms of proof. “Body is numb from the waist down? Nothing in your bloodwork or x-ray that explains that. Blind in your left eye? Fainted at work? Your spinal tap looks somewhat normal.” At best, I was told that it was too soon to tell and that it could take years to see if there are any abnormalities. I was basically told that I had to wait years to be validated. It seemed that things had to be much worse for me to qualify for basic consideration. I understand that giving a diagnosis for an invisible illness is a very hard thing to do and the time it takes is often justified. I know that misdiagnosing someone is not a good look for a doctor and I would hate to be given wrong information. However, the way I had to feel for all those years in waiting had negative impacts on the hardwiring in my brain. I have seen many traces of this in my life. I feel the need to over share and over explain myself about little things most people might not think twice about. I desperately want to be believed, but furthermore, I feel that I need people to see my character, to know I am a good person and that I come from a good place. I absolutely recognize that there is a massive insecurity imbedded in that pattern. Needing to prove everything is a behavior that actually backfires and makes people wonder why “The Lady doth protest too much.”
In my 30’s, so much of me feels I shouldn’t have to prove or explain myself at all. I’ve found growing older and living longer to be the most liberating experience. I know who I am to the point where it doesn’t make sense to me anymore that I would ever have to defend my character. I wish it were as simple as that, but trauma patterns are so hard to break and are still present for me when I feel triggered or unsafe. I often feel that my body reacts in those situations before my common sense has time to kick in. It is something I am so painfully aware of and it can feel exhausting to combat the compilation of years of mixed messaging I have been subjected to.
I would catch myself over explaining to my husband about common place things. It’s a bit hilarious at times because in conflict, he’s usually a man of few words. He just wants to resolve issues quickly and with as little back and forth as possible. Most times, he’s willing to take the “L” because arguing doesn’t seem worth the effort. Unlucky for him, I on the other hand am someone who needs to start from the day I was born and work our way up to how we arrived at the argument over who left the garage door open. We’ve been able to pinpoint that when we don’t agree on something, the way that we both behave is actually displaying the behavior we most want to see from each other. Obviously for me, I can’t stop talking. I feel desperate to be believed and for my intentions to be understood. I explain why I am explaining. I go over details to support my claims, I leave no stone unturned, and I defend points that could be made against me, even though he’s not making them. He, on the other hand, goes silent and just wants to move on because he doesn’t feel it’s necessary to waste time on something so small and insignificant as to whom or why the door was left open. For someone who never struggled to feel believed, who never had their reality and sanity threatened, it feels simple. It was open, and now it’s closed. Done.
We have come a long way in our communication with each other. He with opening up more and explaining that he understands why I feel a certain way, and me with taking him at his word and not attributing meaning to things that are coming from my insecurities and not his actions. I didn’t need to show proof, I didn’t need to explain why I think it is safer to have the door closed or what could happen if it is left open and why I cared so much for both our sake. That wasn’t something he needed from me, and as a result it became something I no longer felt necessary to provide. Once I was able to grasp that I share my life with someone who didn’t make me feel the need to go to that place of defense, I felt safe enough to continue to practice undoing that habit.
I still feel that I over explain myself occasionally to people I am not close to, or that I feel unfamiliar with. I think that I seek approval from them in that way. I catch myself editing texts and emails to be more efficient and free from over explanation and feel proud when I can hit send on something that isn’t filled with disclaimers as a way to protect myself from possible offensives. I remind myself that even if someone doesn’t believe me, which is rarely the case-if ever, that doesn’t make my words any less true. As I continue to grow and move on from repeating my old patterns, I have been able to separate how anyone feels from the truth of what actually is. It isn’t my responsibility to make people believe me. I remind myself of my very favorite piece of advice that my grandmother gave me. “Never explain yourself. Your friends don’t need it, and your enemies won’t believe you anyway.” I hope that anyone reading this can take that to heart and keep it close. Not everyone has to believe us, but what is most important is that we don’t stop believing in ourselves.
Comments