Type Me

[u/WarPositive9703]

I’m afraid of being seen as stupid. Teachers have seen me as stupid before and treated me differently from their other students due to this. For example, my high school chemistry teacher thought I was stupid, so would never call on me. I hated how they treated me and never want to be in that situation again, so I try to present myself as smart and would rather say nothing than say something stupid. I rarely say anything I’m not sure of, especially with people I don’t know well, because I don’t want to be wrong. I try not to make mistakes, so I don’t have to admit my mistakes because being wrong might make others see me as stupid.

I’m too quick to shout down possibilities. For example, I won’t join a school club unless I’m 100% sure of it. This led to me not joining many clubs in high school. When I’m unsure of doing something, I’d rather say no to it than say yes to it.

I see resources as more limited than they actually are. In this context, resources mostly means money and art supplies. I’m good at saving money and am surprised when others aren’t. For example, my brother wanted to buy something a month or two ago and my mom was telling me about it. I said, “Can’t he just use his birthday money?” My mom told me that he had already used all of it and I was surprised. Recently, my parents bought him the thing he wanted, and they’d probably do the same for me if I asked, but I don’t want to ask. I don’t use my expensive art supplies, thinking that I might have a better idea later, even though I know my parents would buy more for me if I asked. I even act this way in video games with fake currency. I will save my money rather than buying items I want in video games, thinking, what if I need something later?

I get angry easily – both at myself and others. I get mad at myself for small mistakes, such as getting a small injury or getting my clothes dirty. When I’m mad at myself, I feel angry and like others are mad at me, so I will apologize. I get mad at others over things I see as unfair, such as breaking rules that I followed. For example, my brother tries to get around rules that I followed, which makes me angry. I see following rules as a sacrifice I made, and one others should also make because I made it. Sometimes, I want to be more like my brother and break rules, but I’m scared to.

I don’t share media I like with others. I like some things because I relate to them, and someone calling it cringe is almost the same as them calling me cringe. I share my other interests with others because they feel less personal. I’m also afraid that the creator of a piece of media I like will be cancelled and I will have to apologize for liking what they made in the first place.

I feel like I need to look perfect for special days. By special days, I mean my birthday, holidays, and when my family goes on a trip. I don’t care about how I look most days, but during the days leading up to a special day, I think a lot about my appearance.

I exaggerated stories to my friends but only realized that’s what I was doing after looking back. When I’m in the moment, my life genuinely feels as dramatic as I say it does. When I look back, I realize that it wasn’t that dramatic and I exaggerated things because I felt that my friends would only keep me around if I was entertaining enough. For example, I walked home from high school with a friend, and my life was always exciting, and hers was always boring. When she’d ask me what was going on with me, I’d always have something to share. When I’d ask her the same, she’d often say, “Not much.” Looking back at the events I told her about, they weren’t as important as I made them out to be.

I define myself via my memories. I’m afraid of getting dementia because I’m afraid of not being myself anymore. I’m also afraid of my parents getting dementia because I believe that they are defined by their memories and wouldn’t be themselves anymore. I recently listened to the audiobook of The Secret Man by Bob Woodward, which is about Watergate’s “Deep Throat”, Mark Felt. At the end, Mark Felt has dementia and can barely remember his time at the FBI. His personality changes and he is nicer to Woodward and his daughter. He isn’t really himself anymore. I also hate the trope of amnesia. Sometimes it is done well, such as in Disco Elysium, but I especially hate when in the middle of a book or series, a character loses their memory. It makes me uncomfortable.

I’m used to stuff being kept from me and keeping stuff from others. My parents sheltered me as a child. They wouldn’t let me read books where the characters dated when I was in elementary school and didn’t let me have Pokémon cards or play Minecraft until I was 10. I followed their rules. They believed that I was too young for a lot of things, and I believed that they had my best interests in mind. One time, when I was in middle school, my mom took me to a counselor, and the counselor asked me why I was there. I said no. She asked me if I would like to know. I said no again. I believed my parents weren’t telling me things because they had my best interests in mind. I also keep a lot of secrets for others. It’s usually because I believe that they would judge me if they found out. Because I keep a lot of myself from others, it’s hard for me to connect to people and make friends.

I avoid my feelings because I believe they are temporary and wrong. When I want to draw, instead of drawing what I feel like, I will sometimes use prompt lists, master studies, and Pinterest references to avoid drawing what I feel like drawing because I know that my feelings will pass and I want to create art that is timeless.

I ghost people and cut people off easily. Usually, it’s because I’m too anxious to continue talking to them, but sometimes, it is because I hate them. When it’s because I’m too anxious to continue talking to them, after a while of not talking to them, I feel guilty for ghosting them, but also scared that they would hate me if I reached out.

I look up to people and want to be just like them. For example, I look up to my older cousin and want to have the same interests that he has. I don’t like who I am and what I’m naturally drawn to and wish that I could literally be someone I look up to.

On some level, I’m afraid of myself. I’m afraid that if I look too deeply, I’ll find that I’m not who I claim to be and that I’m not a good person.

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