Tonight I reached that “overwhelmed” point.
You know the one.
Where nothing seems to be particularly wrong.
School is fine.
Work is fine.
Nothing is overly stressful.
And yet. I feel overwhelmed and drowning. Drowning in feelings and worries and doubts. Drowning in emotional distress from losing friends and from growing older, seeking graduation and grad school.
So I went for a walk this evening in 17 degrees Fahrenheit. Because that is where I feel closer to God. I poured out my overwhelmed heart. I cried tears that nearly froze on my face. I sought his comfort and guidance. My prayer ended in gratitude and cold legs (I was wearing a dress), but not the comfort I was seeking.
And then I opened one of my Book of Mormon study aids, one I haven’t used for awhile, and there it was. This picture.
And suddenly, there were the arms of heaven surrounding me. Showing me that I am the girl in this portrait. I am His child. His love now surrounds me and oh how I love Him for helping me in the simplest of ways. I now cry tears, not of sorrow, but of joy because my Savior knows me and my heart and how to reach me even when I feel unreachable. ❤️
I was achingly open, because I believe that we need to be sharing the hard things we feel comfortable sharing on social media, as well as our most successful moments. For the one person this post helped, and I truly hope there was one, it was worth baring my soul. Sunday's breakdown was the result of near-term stressors, but as I wrote this passage for my assignment I realized that the most recent breakdown was ultimately tied to the persona I currently cultivate, and have cultivated for a long, long time without actively meaning to. It's simply a part of my identity.
There are parts of this persona that I wouldn't change. I like them about myself. It's the negative parts, and the parts that leave me haunted that I would like to change. The problem is this: That the negative parts of my persona are mostly about how others perceive me, and I can't change them. So I'll work on myself. Convincing myself daily that I'm good enough. In the meantime, I hope that this helps you. Maybe it helps you understand me, but maybe, just maybe, my experience will resonate with you and you'll feel better about whatever you're going through. If I help just one person, sharing my struggles, however mundane they may be, will be worth it.
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I wear many hats, roommate, daughter, grand-daughter, friend, confidant, Vice-President in my honors society, ace student (my professors think so and I try to prove them right), Foreign Policy nerd, Star Wars Geek, long-term employee (I'm one of the longest there at 2 ½ years, so there's some pressure there to have the institutional knowledge that others might not.) I wear the hat of polished and competent, even when I don't feel it. For a long time, I've struggled with feelings of inadequacy, mostly because I shoot myself in the foot by doing things, on the outside, very well. However, on the inside, the things I'm doing don't feel perfect, they don't look perfect. In fact, they aren't perfect.
And yet, I've got a reputation that I feel I must maintain. Once, in high school, I forgot to do the back of an assignment. When called upon to answer a question for that side of the assignment I was very honest and said that I had not completed it so did not have an answer for the teacher. The class was immediately, and loudly, verbally reactive. It shocked them all, because I was nothing if not thorough. When I remarked that not everyone was perfect and it was perfectly normal for me to have forgotten that part of the assignment the kid behind me said "Yeah, but you're pretty close [to perfect.]" That's always stuck with me, and shocked me, because even back then I was battling demons they knew nothing about. I was not perfect and I knew it, but everyone thought I was.
I've never liked to be pigeon holed like that, and yet I'm the oldest child who has always gotten good grades and excelled. I'm the student who raises her hand and answers the questions, usually with some level of insight. I'm the TA in the introductory course. I'm the sophomore who completed a Graduate level course. I'm the one who walks into a class and students say "the professor and her TA's could be less intimidating." On some days I don't mind being that person. In fact, some days I relish in the ability to be that person. I've worked hard to become her. I've worked hard to be trusted and loved by my mentor. I've worked hard to be the one who scares freshmen because they don't know what they're getting into. But the problem with being intimidating, trusted, and "perfect" is that there isn't very much room for me to broken, struggling, and imperfect. Unfortunately, I'm human and sometimes I need to break down. To be achingly human. Sometimes I need that space.
In fact, I have a chronic case of imposter syndrome. Even now as I finish my Bachelor's degree, and my mentor trusts me with more and more, I don't feel qualified. I'm sure I have the abilities and the knowledge, but I still feel inadequate and unqualified. But she trusts me, so that should count for something, right? It doesn't seem to in my mind. I struggle daily with the idea that I know things, that I am useful, that I am good enough. And still, my mentor will ask me to do things, to help someone develop a new skill and I am immediately wracked with self-doubt. Imposter-syndrome is quite common among women, 9 times out of 10, I made that stat up, if you ask a woman expert a question she will defer you to a male counterpart, even if she is more qualified. She has imposter syndrome. Of course, it's possible for males to also have imposter syndrome, but it's quite a bit more common in women. I know this intellectually, but that absolutely does not mean that I can actively and effectively combat it in the way I comport myself. I battle daily with imposter syndrome and all it stops me from doing.
In addition, I am often the listening ear for the friend who is breaking down and who needs the sage advice and the shoulder to cry on. I'm comfortable in that role. In fact, I'm really good at turning a conversation away from me and back on another person. I don't like talking about myself. I'd rather solve someone else's problems than focus on my own. This leaves me with an inability to talk about my struggles when they are happening. It leaves me unwilling to burden others with the things that are troubling me, and it leaves me unwilling to turn to someone else and let them be my shoulder to cry on, even after they offer time and time again. I'm working on that.
I'm expected to be the perfect one. I want it that way sometimes. But other times, I want to be able to break down and have the space for that and for everyone to know that I'm okay, that I'll be fine, but sometimes I need to cry, sometimes I need to vent and then it will all be okay again. Because I'm working to be better and someday I'll be perfect. It just may not happen in this life.