My Brain is a Dick

My brain is a dick, even when it's trying to be nice.

It says things like, "You can't do that!" or "That's a stupid idea!" or "You will never be able to do that!" or "Just forget trying, you're only going to fail."

Total dick.

And I've listened to it for years. I've believed it and I've held myself back, feeling stuck. I've been afraid to try, afraid of failure and judgement. Afraid to be anything but less than what I could be.

It says other things too. Things like, "You will never be pretty in a wedding dress." or "You have always been fat, you always will be fat and fat=ugly."

It doesn't matter that My Fella feels I'm beautiful just the way I am. It doesn't matter if I've had people call me pretty or say I looked good. It doesn't matter because my brain is a dick.

Sometimes it gets really mean. "Don't trust them" it says, or "They can't mean that, they're lying."
It tells me, "Don't you dare rely on them." or "Everyone will leave you eventually."
It says, "If you do that, think that, for yourself... it's selfish."

"You're hopeless. Broken. A wreck."
"Your friends, your Fella, your family...they'll figure out how broken you are and leave."
"Everyone leaves eventually."

That last one is recurring. It screams my fear of abandonment and sends me into a spiral of what ifs that terrifies me.  I become desperate to believe anything else so I tell people I love them, waiting in torture for them to return the sentiment. If they don't, doubt sinks in and takes over and I fall into that spiral, spinning. I become afraid they have left me.

This is where therapy starts to help. Slowly.

Somehow, that dicky brain part of me is trying to protect me. I think, if I build a wall, if I know I'm already broken, I won't risk being broken again. I won't have insults hurdled at me about my weight if I already believe them or if I say them first.  If I don't learn to rely on others, I can close myself off, isolate myself from the loved ones that want to help. I will never learn that asking for help, accepting help, is ok. If I build that wall.

I've been building that wall a long time. It's hard to listen to that part that says my brain is a dick, but easy to believe. It's so hard, so exhausting to try and change what you've believed for so long. I tried other things first. When I was young, 11 or 12 or 13, I'd drink dad's Crown Royal mixed with kool aid in the shed out back. When I was a little older, I smoked pot to quiet that voice of cruelty.  A little older than that, sex with men that were not good men to me. I was self destructing and had no strength to stop. I hid in depression and food and my apartment while on the outside I smiled, worked and tried. I thought no one noticed because why would they? I'd already told them through my actions that they didn't have to.

It worked for awhile, except when it didn't.

I 'protected' myself so much, I forgot to take care of myself. I let my brain and it's harsh words control all of me. I stopped trusting the kindness from others. I began to believe all the things I'd already known and it hurt. It immobilized me.

Somehow I sought help and that's when I started to learn that my brain isn't really a dick. It just doesn't know the right way to help. It's a slow lesson, a hard lesson. But I'm trying.

I think about how I'd respond if a friend was saying those things to themselves. I'd be shocked and dismayed, saddened they could ever feel that way and I'd do my best to help them feel otherwise. I'd tell them it was ok to have those feelings but that they didn't have to believe them.  I'd tell them they were braver than they knew and that I would be there to help them realize it.

I'm trying to say those things to myself, to believe them. It's not easy but I'm going to try to be kind to myself. I'm going to be that friend to myself I've been to others and reassure my brain that it doesn't have to 'protect' me anymore. I can believe the kindness and support. I don't have to self destruct.

I'm going to try.
At least I'll try today.
And that's one more day forward.