When you have CPTSD, one of the first things that you learn is that, yes, you might have trouble with being vulnerable. The way that I masked up and hid my vulnerabilities was two-fold.
The first way was by being very charming. My mom had this kind of sparkly quality she could bring out, that was sometimes such a sharp contrast to the depressed and crushing sadness she sometimes seemed to have at home. I think I learned that charm from her, really. Some of it was just in me, too, I think. There’s a real version of it, which is the same kind of charm I believe everyone has when they’re just themselves. Then there’s this other kind, which is just shy of authentic. I used to drift back and forth between these places when I’d see people.
The second was by just keeping them hidden. My dad had this tendency to never admit he was wrong, and also to always be right. Which was sometimes absurd to deal with. I got into a habit of never admitting mistakes, but I hated that. Before I learned to be vulnerable, I learned how to just talk about mistakes and admit it.
I sometimes make grievous, self-sabotaging mistakes if I’ve had a good day. In fact, today is the day where I’m thankful I made a self-sabotaging mistake. Because, I can see it now. The pattern. Which means I have a chance to pay attention to something if I want to. Namely, if I had a good day, am I sabotaging myself the next day to avoid the good feelings and regress to a childhood state of panic, irritation and fear?
There was a job that was mine to lose today. I thought yesterday that I was having no luck with my job search, but the truth is, I’ve only been at it for a month. I half-hearted applied to 7 jobs between November and January. In February, I realized I’ve been doing 40+ hours a week of volunteer work and helping out, so, decided to start looking. I hired a resume company to rewrite my old one, and decided to be very intentional about my search.
I didn’t start applying until mid-March, about a week before I got Covid-19 and the notice from Yale Writer’s Workshop. I’m averaging about 1 job interview for every 12 resumes I send out. We’ll see if that holds, or what it looks like.
I’ve used spreadsheets to track my job applications for about 15 years, which means I’ve got records of past job searches. The last two times I was out of work, it took over 100 job applications for me to get a job. I haven’t even applied to 40 jobs before today started.
The job I was up for was an executive position at a non-profit. I was EXCITED about it. I had this fantastic day yesterday. And this job, oh, it would’ve been so great. But I got a phone call, an emergency, and I had to deal with the emergency. And I got so focused, I didn’t pay attention to the time. It would’ve taken me 30 seconds to craft an email to explain what was going on.
Instead, I completely blew them off. Not acceptable. And it’s 100% my responsibility here. Not only that — I think I may have subconsciously blown off the interview BECAUSE I was excited about it. Like, I have this good day, I’m excited today, and these feelings have always introduced a sense of dread in me. Until the end of last year. But as I’m going through this gauntlet of relearning the lessons, and then gaining new insights, that was today’s insight.
I’m not beating myself up. Nor am I going to entertain any ideas or comments that the folks at this company are bad people – they don’t know me. I think I’d react poorly to a candidate who just blew off an interview.
For me, the lesson is clear. It’s not hypervigilance. It’s awareness. For the same reason that I’ve put anniversary markers about my mom, dad, sister and a few others into my calendar, I need to be aware of what happens to me after a good day. Just be aware of ways I might self-sabotage.
I worked hard to become someone who values other people’s time. When I was a kid, I showed up 15 minutes early. I stopped doing that. Then I got back to it because I value other people’s time. And today? I was too late.
And it’s on me. And I’m grateful I made this mistake, because I’ve learned from it. I don’t think I’ll ever do this again. And I’m going to be kind, and help myself watch out for this self-sabotage, and keep doing what I’ve been doing – kindly do something else.
Being vulnerable carries risk, and my nervous system used to scream at me when I’d do it. I think this is partly why I did it, to teach myself that even if someone uses something I’ve shared to hurt me or for their own selfish reasons, that it won’t kill me. And in that feeling, I have some joy and gratitude, because, I know that this is the last time I’ll ever sabotage myself like this again.
And I know this because I know what to do, how to build some structure for myself to help me, and how to be aware of this in the first place.
Who knows? Maybe I would’ve made the call and we wouldn’t have liked each other. As it stands, all I can do is keep moving forward.
And I will. And I’m grateful for it all.