Secret Confession #3
I have spent my entire life being the 'fixer.' In my family, in my friendships, in my relationships—I am the one who remains calm when the house is burning down. I’ve taken pride in it for years, wearing my resilience like armor. But lately, the armor has become too heavy to carry. I am experiencing a burnout so deep that it feels like it’s in my marrow. I find myself sitting in my car for an hour after work, staring at the steering wheel, unable to move because the thought of going inside and being 'needed' makes me want to disappear. The crisis is that I’ve built a life where no one knows how to take care of me because I’ve never allowed them to. I’ve taught everyone that I am invincible, and now I’m trapped by that expectation. I’m 25, and I feel like I’ve already lived three lifetimes of emotional labor. I want to tell my friends I’m struggling, but I’m afraid of the look of disappointment when they realize their 'strong' friend is actually falling apart. I’ve started isolating myself, pulling away from everyone I love, because it’s easier to be alone than to keep up the facade. I’m terrified that if I finally stop being the pillar, the whole world I’ve built will come crashing down on top of me, and I’ll realize that the only reason people were around was because of what I could do for them, not for who I actually am. -anonymous
- LifeCrisis