So, after a fair amount of thought over the past few days, I think I’ve come up with a list of the ways in which my insecurities manifest themselves. While depressingly long, it gives me a place to start from; otherwise, without knowing exactly how my insecurities show up, I can’t really work to make any of them better. So, without further ado:
1. Intelligence. I know I’m smart, but I am constantly worried that the people around me, especially the people I view as peers, friends, and others such relationships, will think I’m dumb. I often feel that what I have to say on a subject is not that smart or interesting, especially compared to what others are saying. and so when this starts happening, I generally just clam up and wait, hoping that maybe I can interject something that sounds goods somewhere along the line. This was particularly bad when I was in grad school, because I was surrounded by people who shared my interests, and who always seemed (and some certainly did) to have more intelligent, more important things to say.
2. Appearance. This is another big one. I have trouble looking in the mirror in the morning after showering, because I’m never particularly happy with what I see. I know I’m overweight, and I can accept that, but it’s still not nice to look at. I’m also not a very good judge of what makes a guy attractive, but I’ve always had a nagging feeling that whatever it is, I don’t have it. Naturally, when you feel like you’re unattractive and overweight, this brings up issues when talking to one’s preferred gender, and I imagine that lack of confidence in my appearance has resulted in most of the rejections I’ve had from women.
3. Motivation. This, I think, is probably largely tied to my depression, but it can certainly make things problematic, especially where it ties in with my other insecurities. I’ve never had a huge degree of motivation for anything; I just don’t feel that drive to get things done that I see other people as having. There are things I want to do, sure, but my motivation comes in very finite amounts – if I go all-out on something, it will only last for a little while, and then I’ll burn out, lose interest, and never finish. This, I think, is what frequently happens with my efforts at things like weight loss; I start out motivated, but I can only keep up that drive for a week, two weeks, maybe a month. And then I just don’t feel it anymore.
4. Attachment. This is probably a big one – possibly the biggest one, at the moment – for me. A friend who I mentioned this to actually said that she thought I might have an attachment disorder. Now, I know the internet can be dangerous about such things – I remember looking up some things on Borderline Personality Disorder and being horrified by how misleading it was. So everything I have done is preliminary. But I figure Wikipedia, while not the greatest authority, might be a place to at least start. So I found an article on attachment in adults. It lists four separate types of attachment: secure, dismissive-avoidant, fearful-avoidant, and anxious-preoccupied. Reading through the descriptions, initially, anxious-preoccupied seems to fit well for me; I’ll quote it here: “People with anxious-preoccupied attachment type tend to agree with the following statements: “I want to be completely emotionally intimate with others, but I often find that others are reluctant to get as close as I would like”, and “I am uncomfortable being without close relationships, but I sometimes worry that others don’t value me as much as I value them.” People with this style of attachment seek high levels of intimacy, approval, and responsiveness from their partners. They sometimes value intimacy to such an extent that they become overly dependent on their partners. Compared to securely attached people, people who are anxious or preoccupied with attachment tend to have less positive views about themselves. They often doubt their worth as a partner and blame themselves for their partners’ lack of responsiveness. People who are anxious or preoccupied with attachment may exhibit high levels of emotional expressiveness, worry, and impulsiveness in their relationships.” I know that the closer I feel to another person, the more contact I want with them, and I start to spend a lot of time thinking about what I’m doing wrong. I create scenarios in my head of what they’re thinking about me, and how I’m going to far, which makes me constantly question everything I say and do – did I look at her too long? Did I say the wrong thing? Did I make that hug last a second too long? I feel like however the other person sees me, they will eventually see through that image and see how screwed up I really am and leave me, and I always wonder when that shoe will drop. I take the blame for everything that goes wrong, because I feel like it is always my fault – I said something stupid, I was inconsiderate, I wasn’t hospitable enough. Reading up on this, I can see how toxic this must be to the other person, because my second-guessing myself can lead to them doing the same thing, and they might notice this and want to put some distance between us to try and work through their own issues. But the distance makes me feel even more needy. I’m not qualified to diagnose myself, of course, but it does seem to have a fair degree of resemblance to me.
These are all things I’ll need to discuss with my therapist when I see him tomorrow. I know that some of them are the very epitome of what a group leader at Menninger tried to hammer into us: “Thoughts are not facts.” So, now that I think I’ve identified the big areas, I need to start watching for when they pop up so that I can knock them back down. Hopefully moving forward with this, at least to some degree, might help me save my friendship.