Zella-rose - Zella Rose

this winter is going to be very hard.

AvPD theory: social perfectionism

Avoidance as social perfectionism.

“This relationship will be doomed from the start ... so there’s no point trying to make friends.”

“I’ll inevitably say stuff wrong and make things awkward ... so there’s no point in starting a conversation.”

“I might be having a good day, but I won’t always be energetic, clever and likable ... so there’s no point in reaching out.”

These examples share some common links:

negative self-esteem

avoidance of anxiety/discomfort

seeking control and certainty

trying to meet others’ expectations, or avoid disappointing them

Thoughts, anybody?

(more here!)

Digging deeper into AvPD.

(Part of my ongoing series of posts on Avoidant Personality Disorder.)

AvPD is focused on controlling anxiety, like an anxiety disorder.

It's self-reinforcing, like an anxiety disorder.

That’s what I wrote this other post about. But it’s more than just anxiety.

Because it also affects your life universally -- in practically every situation.

It affects your self-perception universally.

It prevents you from forming healthy relationships.

It affects your ability to feel your emotions.

And it’s rooted in shame.

The hallmark of AvPD is a fear of exposure.

A fear of being seen or known by others. You fear that happening because you feel inadequate, flawed, defective. Ashamed.

If someone sees who you really are, what you’re really like, and they mock or devalue or criticize you -- if they point out how flawed and messed up you are -- you’ll be thrown right into those feelings. It will (says the disorder) “become true.”

And experiencing that shame is so excruciating, you distance yourself from all your feelings in order to escape. (Feelings are an all-or-nothing deal.)

But as a result of being detached from your emotions, it’s hard for you to relate to people normally.

You feel like a fake, like you are just simulating what a Real Person™ should be doing in this situation. This is exhausting beyond words. Interacting doesn’t come naturally, because you don’t quite feel anything.

If you’re anything like me though, you are lowkey suffering 100% of the time.

You might feel like at any moment, you could explode and start screaming and never stop.

You want someone to notice, and care that you’re hurting and so so lonely, but you also want no one to pay attention to you ever because it is so agonizing to be seen.

And if you manage to get past that, you probably think your feelings are so unimportant, you shouldn’t bother anyone else with them. Trying to tell someone about what you’re experiencing just makes you want to cringe.

Or worse, it makes you want to slip into a terrifying blankness, with a vacant smile and deflection: “so how are you?”

This feels like dying. Which is not really so far from the truth.

But possibly the worst part is, you might not even be able to express what’s wrong. You just know: it hurts. You’re miserable. You want it to stop.

(Which doesn’t sound real or reasonable enough to tell to another person, for goodness’ sake. So you don’t.)

Living in avoidance really means fading out of existence.

It means exerting all your energy to make yourself an un-person. To make yourself so passive, so still -- so inert -- almost invisible, like the clearest water: all an observer can see is a slight reflection of themself on the surface. Everything about you is neutralized.

And this is the opposite of what we are here to do. What we’re here to be.

We’re meant to be vivid, powerful people -- we are meant to be connected.

We are meant to be whole.

And that is how we can recover, to reconnect with ourselves. Believe in wholeness!

Every part of AvPD is just the most rational, sensible reaction to believing that you’re fundamentally flawed, and that connecting with others isn’t safe.

And (while people debate about whether or not you can “recover” from a personality disorder) I firmly believe that the things you’ve learned, can be un-learned.

This is where it starts!

Stay close to people who make you feel like it’s okay to be yourself. 

It eventually gets better, without any sort of explanation; you just wake up one morning and you’re not as upset anymore.

Unknown  (via lucite)

Although don't feel bad if it's been a long time and you're still upset! This is a thing that just happens sometimes; and sometimes it happens after a lot of self work. Either is okay. <3

Levels of relationship, part 2: Safe people

(Part of my ongoing series of posts on Avoidant Personality Disorder. You can read part 1 of this post here.)

Having a safe person means so much.

When you have a safe person in your life, that relationship becomes really important. Here’s why.

With a safe person, I am welcome. It’s okay to exist.

They’ve demonstrated that they won’t hurt me, even when they have the chance. (They prove this by just literally not doing it, over time.)

They don’t react in the ways that I fear.

They’re consistently kind and supportive of me.

They’re actively considerate of my feelings.

A safe person cares about your feelings.

They really want to know how you feel, and they want to make sure you’re okay. How you feel actually matters to them.

And this is SO important for us -- because with AvPD, we are not good at dealing with our feelings. We’re not good at standing up for them, expressing them -- or even sometimes being aware of them.

So when someone proactively cares about how we feel, and maybe even encourages us (gently!) to open up ... it’s like they’re creating a space where our feelings are OK. It’s OK to have them, and to feel them, and to talk about them. And that’s something I don’t think people with AvPD get to experience much.

This could happen as subtly as you having an anxiety attack, and them acting calm and accepting instead of freaking out. You just get the sense that it’s okay. You’re okay with them.

Because our feelings are “allowed” in a relationship with a safe person, we’re able to let our walls down and let them see who we really are. It may only be a tiny bit of visibility, but it’s often a lot more than we have in any other relationship.

And when they respond positively to our self-revealing, we get emotional affirmation, and we can feel accepted. Which is hugely healing.

When we’re with them, we feel more like a whole person.

That emotional support and acceptance, in fact, is just like what people without AvPD get from their normal relationships.

And that’s why it’s so important to us. We have the same need for acceptance, friendship, and being liked as anyone else -- it’s just so much harder for us to receive it.

So with the rare person who can soften our defenses and let us feel safe being close to them ... that’s a treasure we never take for granted.

A note about dependency

I do think there’s some potential overlap with being dependent on someone (like with DPD or codependency). I became absolutely obsessed with my first safe person, and it wasn’t good for me or for them.

But I also think it's natural to value a “safe person” type relationship very highly, and to want to be close to them, and I don’t think that’s automatically unhealthy. This is just something we need to be aware of, and it’s a good idea to check on boundaries and comfort levels once in a while.

You can have more than one!

Just like people without AvPD can have more than one positive relationship, people with AvPD can have more than one safe person. It’s just equally rare to find a second person you “click” with that way. But there’s nothing automatically exclusive about it, and it can be nice to have more than one person to talk to.

It’s also a spectrum. Each relationship is unique, and it changes a little with every interaction. You might have one safe person who you’ve known for a long time, and then another one you’re still building a relationship with. The important thing is whether you get that sense of emotional support and acceptance from being with them.

And who knows? Eventually, you might just start calling your safe people “close friends” -- because that’s pretty much what they are for us.

AvPD theory: social perfectionism

Avoidance as social perfectionism.

“This relationship will be doomed from the start … so there’s no point trying to make friends.”

“I’ll inevitably say stuff wrong and make things awkward … so there’s no point in starting a conversation.”

“I might be having a good day, but I won’t always be energetic, clever and likable … so there’s no point in reaching out.”

These examples share some common links:

negative self-esteem

avoidance of anxiety/discomfort

seeking control and certainty

trying to meet others’ expectations, or avoid disappointing them

Thoughts, anybody?

(more here!)

That’s right, small achievements are still achievements #EthicalMemes

one of the more valuable things I’ve learned in life as a survivor of a mentally unstable parent is that it is likely that no one has thought through it as much as you have. 

no, your friend probably has not noticed they cut you off four times in this conversation. 

no, your brother didn’t realize his music was that loud while you were studying. 

no, your bff or S.O. doesn’t remember that you’re on a tight deadline right now.

no, no one else is paying attention to the four power dynamics at play in your friend group right now.  

a habit of abused kids, especially kids with unstable parents, is the tendency to notice every little detail. We magnify small nuances into major things, largely because small nuances quickly became breaking points for parents. Managing moods, reading the room, perceiving danger in the order of words, the shift of body weight….it’s all a natural outgrowth of trying to manage unstable parents from a young age. 

Here’s the thing: most people don’t do that. I’m not saying everyone else is oblivious, I’m saying the over analysis of minor nuances is a habit of abuse. 

I have a rule: I do not respond to subtext. This includes guilt tripping, silent treatments, passive aggressive behavior, etc. I see it. I notice it. I even sometimes have to analyze it and take a deep breath and CHOOSE not to respond. Because whether it’s really there or just me over-reading things that actually don’t mean anything, the habit of lending credence to the part of me that sees danger in the wrong shift of body weight…that’s toxic for me. And dangerous to my relationships. 

The best thing I ever did for myself and my relationships was insist upon frank communication and a categorical denial of subtext. For some people this is a moral stance. For survivors of mentally unstable parents this is a requirement of recovery.