the bare minimum

taken on my twentieth birthday, a day that i put myself first

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            I've come to realize that I care too much.  Probably more than I care to admit, sometimes, and it can often cause me more harm than good.  I recognize that I try to do so much for others and put effort into seeing their happiness and see them thrive in their success, yet I find myself insecure in my own.  I'm most content when I see my friend's faces light up after telling a corny joke, or the sparkle in their eyes when they speak about their passions.  I care so much about others that I forget to care about myself.  

            I mean, I do the bare minimum of self-care, but I'm naive in the fact that my mental health isn't just as important as my physical.  I was always taught to treat people with kindness and treat them how I would want to be treated, and for as long as I've been alive, that's been my creed.  I feel my worst when those around me feel their worst, somehow giving me guilt that I know I have no reason to be feeling because it's not my responsibility to bring happiness to the personal lives of strangers or friends.  I know that, yet I keep coming back and abandoning myself in a desperate need to be the mediator, the people pleaser, not acknowledging the broken glass of my heart that I keep stepping on.

           I took a personality test recently ─ many, actually, but that's beside the point ─ and I discovered that my personality falls under the type two enneagram: basically, I'm the self-sacrificer who helps others to make myself feel needed.  Now, I love helping others and making sure that those around me are happy, but there is a part of me that wonders if they'd be better off without me or if they'd put as much care as I do if the roles were reversed.  My worst fear is being alone and unneeded, so I latch on to my friends and family and disregard my own needs and feelings to appease theirs. 

            Okay, so the main thing: my mental health is struggling because I don't care for myself enough, but rather clinging to a false duty of care for others because if I let go, I feel like I won't be needed.  I try too hard to make everyone happy and dwell too much on the correct actions to take to keep them happy.  I stretch myself thin to make up for the lack of self-care in myself and channel it into my love and affection for those closest to me.  Yes, I am aware that this is very toxic and probably should've mentioned this to someone a while ago, but that was the old me. ( I say sardonically.)  This is kind of a resolution to the New Year, but I guess this is also me owning up to negative feelings about myself in a somewhat lighthearted manner.  

 

       So, 2021, hopefully, a year of personal enlightenment to become someone better and less high strung in terms of worrying and trying too hard.  I want to try to be as carefree as I was on my twentieth birthday, but with more alcohol and less trying to cloak my own insecurities by funneling any form of kindness or care into those who love me.  I know I am loved, and I hope that one day, I can move myself from the backburner and stand equal with the love that I know I share every day with the people in my world.