Latest Posts by zella-rose - Page 6

Levels of relationship, part 1

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

I realized recently that I tend to try and categorize every relationship I form. Here’s how that breaks down.

Variables of a relationship

The quantity of time I spend feeling safe vs. scared with them

Past evidence of them being judgmental or trustworthy

How possible intimate connection seems

How rewarding intimate connection seems

From those variables, we get groups like this.

“Scary” person:

someone I usually feel frightened around

they’ve shown frightening behavior: they’ve treated me or others negatively in the past (acting critical, judgmental, rejecting, or cruel)

Intimacy is impossible.

I will never choose to be vulnerable with them, for any reason.

“Friendly” person:

someone I feel comfortable around

who has NOT shown frightening behavior

Intimacy is possible, but even if I achieved it, I think it has a very low chance of turning out well.

I could choose to be vulnerable with them, but I usually won’t, because it’s not worth the risk.

“Safe” person:

someone I feel comfortable around

who has shown trustworthy behavior in the past: I have been vulnerable with them, and they responded in a kind, supportive, accepting way

Intimacy is definitely possible, and I think it’s likely to have a positive result: they’ll probably be kind and supportive again.

I will probably choose to be vulnerable with them as often as possible.

It’s not this clear-cut or this conscious in real life. But looking at the patterns in my relationships, that tends to be how it divides. When I’m with some people, I feel really, shockingly good; with others, I feel okay; and with others, I feel really bad/afraid.

Who goes where?

For me, I assume most people are “friendly.” Acquaintances who have never frightened me go here. Strangers go here -- for me -- because why would they bother judging me? What are they judging me against?

People who are abusive or who violate my boundaries go in “scary,” of course. But, for me, so do people who are just really opinionated or blunt, because I have such a low tolerance for conflict and hostility. (People vary! Your criteria for “scary/unsafe” or any other group might be totally different, and that’s okay.)

The rarest group is “safe” people.

Because finding someone who’s basically never frightened me, who I’ve risked being open with, and who responded to me in the exact right way to put me at ease and make me feel heard and accepted -- well, that just doesn’t happen very often.

For me, the chances are better if they’re naturally mild and considerate people. And the chances are really good if they genuinely like me.

For more about safe people, you can read part 2 here.

AvPD and healing self-esteem - tl;dr.

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

AvPD disconnects you from others, from yourself, and from your feelings.

And that hurts. A lot.

It’s okay to try and fix it.

It’s okay to want to feel better.

And it’s okay to notice your feelings, even if they’re unpleasant.

When you feel judged on all sides, make a safe space for yourself. Find somewhere you can be totally alone and free of observation, like a private journal. Feel what it’s like to not have anyone looking over your shoulder -- maybe for the first time.

Explore your feelings. Get to know what you really think and want, when your opinion is the only one that matters.

When you can, be nice to yourself. Try giving yourself the benefit of the doubt.

Do things that feel good.

When you’re upset with yourself for messing up, consciously decide to look for things that you succeeded at instead. Make a list of wins.

Here’s how this relates to self-esteem.

When we describe what it feels like to have AvPD, it sounds like, “Everyone judges and hurts me.”

But people only have the power to decide how much we’re worth, because we aren’t taking charge of doing that ourselves.

When you reconnect with your feelings, create a judgment-free zone for yourself, and learn to treat yourself nicely, you’re giving value to yourself. You’re saying, “This matters. My feelings matter. I’m worth taking care of.”

Esteem means “favorable opinion or respect.” In the throes of AvPD, we survive on other people’s esteem for us -- it matters what they think, because that’s how we determine our self-worth. But when we shift to relying on self esteem, we can finally heal and begin to thrive.

When we give respect and value to ourselves, no one else can take it away.

And that’s why practicing self-care and self-kindness is so powerful and important.

(You can read more here, in the long version of this post.)

Things to remember when you want to say "no," assert yourself, and ask for what you want

If I say “no” to someone and they get angry, this does not mean I should have said “yes.”

Saying “no” does not make me selfish.

Although I want to please the people I care about, I do not have to please them all the time.

It is okay to want or need something from someone else. 

My wants and needs are just as important as those of anyone else.

I have the right to assert myself, even if I may inconvenience others. 

It’s really strange to be putting this stuff out there.

Actually, it’s strange to be compiling everything in my head about Getting Better and packing it into good old-fashioned text posts -- but also really, to be putting it out where people can read it.

Like, poster child of AvPD... (well, recovering poster child...) pulls out a bunch of really, incredibly super vulnerable stuff and sticks it on the internet for all to see

It’s kind of terrifying but also liberating? Like, maybe this stuff isn’t Just Me? Like ... maybe it’s actually relevant for other people? Or at least thought-provoking enough to be worth reading, even if it doesn’t apply.

(Also, this is literally the most attention I’ve ever gotten in my 3.5 years of tumblr. squeaks and hides)

AvPD recovery: Self-esteem.

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

AvPD isolates you from being truly connected, being part of the world.

It keeps you from creating trust-filled, satisfying relationships.

It also keeps you from connecting with yourself, like I wrote about in another post.

It keeps you from truly feeling -- and even sometimes recognizing -- your own emotions, your own wishes.

Most of all, being this way hurts.

Avoiding our feelings and being detached from ourselves is not normal.

And just like the pain of a physical injury, this pain is a reaction that comes from seeking wholeness. It’s calling attention to a real problem.

It’s okay to try and fix the problem.

It’s okay to pay attention to how you feel.

Even if it’s negative.

Yes! Even if it’s absolutely terrible.

Ignoring bad feelings is sometimes necessary for survival. And if it is for you right now, you probably already know it. That’s okay, and you can probably still do a lot of these things.

Remember: There’s no right or wrong way to heal.

Find a place where you can be absolutely alone, on purpose.

A place where there isn’t anyone who will judge you or make fun of you -- a place just for you, like a private journal or sketchbook or blog. Even the best option will probably feel kind of uncomfortable, so don’t obsess over finding the perfect outlet for this!

Do whatever you can to make it feel safe and out of reach from everyone.

And then spend time there, regularly.

Once you get used to it, try noticing what it’s like to not have anybody looking over your shoulder.

Can you even imagine it? It’s a terrible contradiction that we spend so much time alone, but so little time feeling un-watched. Free of observers and judging eyes.

See if you can get to know your feelings.

Within the protection of your solitude, try writing about your feelings. Or drawing or singing or collaging about them -- whatever works for you.

It doesn’t have to be pretty, and it’s okay if it doesn’t feel natural. It’s a skill, and you have to gain proficiency just like with any other skill. You'll get there; it doesn’t matter how slow or fast that happens.

As long as you’re trying, you’re making progress.

If you learn one tiny thing about yourself, or if you get a little more used to expressing yourself -- then it’s a success.

Experiment with being nice to yourself sometimes.

This is so, so hard, and it’s okay if you’re not ready to try.

But when you are, just try being kind to yourself. Try being gentle. Give yourself the benefit of the doubt once in a while.

And if you can’t do it, try not to hate yourself too much for failing. It’s OK -- if "official permission” existed, this would be it: You don’t have to punish yourself.

Do things that feel good.

Just because they feel good. It’s OK to do that.

In particular, look for things that just sound like they would be nice, right about now. Something that you just ... feel like doing.

Even if it’s only a tiny thing, like making yourself a cup of tea, or taking a nice bath, or re-reading your favorite book.

Learn what it feels like to want something, and learn what it’s like to give yourself something good.

Try to consciously look for “wins.”

After doing anything, if you find yourself retracing your mistakes, blaming yourself, or feeling sick and anxious and guilty -- take a minute to redirect your thoughts.

Ask yourself: what went right? In what ways did I succeed?

It doesn’t matter if your brain is throwing lots of fails and embarrassment at you; that’s like a TV channel that never turns off. You don’t have to pay attention to it all the time. Just, when you have the energy to, deliberately focus on the good anyway.

The smallest success still counts: “Hey, I remembered what building my class is in! I was basically on time! I didn’t trip over anyone! I learned something!” Even if you have to name truly silly things for “wins,” start with those.

The point is giving yourself credit, instead of bringing yourself down.

And you might be surprised at how well things actually went -- when you start looking at how well they went, instead of how badly.

These things are the heart of recovering from AvPD...

...in my opinion, and in my own experience. Because this is how you recover your self-esteem.

The simple way to see AvPD is that other people judge and hurt us.

But the more complex truth is that their judgment only has the power to affect us that much, because we’ve never claimed the right to judge for OURSELVES.

We never learned to like ourselves, or to be kind to ourselves. We never learned to take care of ourselves. To own who we are, as human beings. To decide OUR OWN value.

That takes some intense courage. But you don’t have to do it all at once.

Every single thing I listed here is about:

reclaiming your inner life for yourself,

finding your feelings and wishes again,

practicing taking care of your feelings.

Taking care of yourself means healing shame. It means giving yourself value.

We all need to be validated, listened to, cared for, and given positive value. We need dignity.

But when you can give those things to yourself in abundance, you don’t have to rely on other people’s scraps for your self-esteem.

And that’s how you get free. The fear will still be there. But it won’t control you.

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!

AvPD and how we control anxiety.

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

So in anxiety disorders, there are “safety behaviors” that are things you do to manage your anxiety.

Like when people with social anxiety are around other people, they’ll play with their phone,

or stay in the bathroom longer than necessary,

or avoid eye contact,

or only go somewhere with another person.

See also: compulsions in OCD.

It’s something you do while you are in the presence of your Feared Thing, to make it less scary/more tolerable.  It’s like a buffer.

But I’ve had a hard time figuring out what is the safety behavior in Avoidant Personality Disorder. So much of its actual presence in people’s lives (or at least in mine) seems to be: “terrified of being seen/rejected by others.” And where you have anxiety, you should also be seeing safety behaviors, right? But it’s not really talked about.

Obviously you can just AVOID people as much as possible, and not have to deal with it in the first place. (Like, clearly. I myself am a shut-in, because AvPD.) But what if you’re actually in it, facing this anxiety/threat? What do you do? How do you buffer the fear?

To lower AvPD anxiety, you de-escalate the intimacy.

I bet MOST of us have a kind of hierarchy of “how scary/how close is this type of interaction.” And if something is too scary, what do you do? Bump down the closeness a step.

You stop touching, step away, put a barrier in between you; you reduce the level of contact, from phone, to chat, to text, to email. (This is my hierarchy; yours might be different.) If you’re in a group and their scrutiny is freaking you out while you try to talk to someone, you go off and talk alone. Or if being alone with someone is too scary, you get somebody to go with you.

Online, maybe you size down the chat window or minimize it entirely between replies. You silence the notifications. You fullscreen something else over it. (Maybe you compulsively glance over to see if they’ve responded, like I do.)

If you’re trying to share something about yourself, maybe you choose to give it to them long-form all at once, so you can’t lose your nerve halfway through. Maybe you edit out select details that are Too Revealing, too unique, too you. Maybe you only share it with them when you've both agreed to discuss it immediately, so it isn’t hanging in the air between you.

It’s about this:

controlling how much access (ability to disturb) they have to you

controlling what they get to see

and monitoring how they react

The “safest” situation is one where they have very little access to you; where you only allow them to see a bare minimum of personal details about you; and where you can watch and try to mitigate how they are responding to you/what they think of you.

The most “unsafe” situation is one where

you can’t control how much access they have to you (i.e. you live with them or see them every day, you can’t get away from their influence/moods/judgments, or they have power over some aspect of your life)

you can’t control how much about you they get to see (i.e. no privacy, no boundaries)

and you can’t monitor or affect how they react (i.e. they find out a secret of yours and then abruptly leave, or they just won’t communicate their feelings with you at all, or you aren’t even aware of what they know until they confront you).

(Okay, so full disclosure, I basically just described my entire relationship with my mom. So this theory may have overlap with codependency, abusive relationships, and c-ptsd, rather than being pure AvPD.)

De-escalating intimacy = de-escalating trust.

You’re reducing their ability to hurt you -- you’re making “How much I am forced to trust you” as tiny and inert as possible.

Which is very useful in a situation where the person is actually going to (or genuinely might) hurt you.

But this eventual habit of lowering intimacy, lowering trust, also means creating distance between you and people you might actually like to form a connection with.

Once you are out of an unsafe situation, this --

controlling how much access they have to you, controlling what they get to see, and monitoring how they react

-- is no longer about managing a threat, or danger. It’s about managing anxiety.

And here is what we know: Compulsions, safety behaviors, avoidance ... anything we do to defend against anxiety, is self-reinforcing. The more you do it, the stronger the urge to do it next time.

There’s another thing:

When you avoid every single instance of interpersonal conflict, you never get the chance to learn how to handle it in a healthy way.

So, yes, when you get into a normal, not-dangerous argument with someone, or have to stand up for yourself, or defend your boundaries -- 2 things: You haven’t built up the skills to handle it in a way that feels safe, AND, you’re super sensitized to conflict because it’s rare.

Conflict is actually scary and feels out of control, times 2, on top of your pre-established fear. And that can be emotionally violent enough, that it can actually be traumatizing or re-traumatizing all on its own.

This obviously isn’t the whole story of AvPD. It’s a personality disorder, not just an anxiety disorder. But I bet for some people, including me, this is a huge chunk of it.

In this post I mentioned how, even in a good relationship with someone, I still question whether they’re going to reject me when I let them see things about myself. Even though I have no reason to think they would.

That’s part of how I differentiate normal, “reasonable” fears from disorder-y, “unreasonable” fears, now.

Is it connected to the real situation? Does it depend on actual facts, interactions, history? Or is it detached from all that -- “it exists no matter what’s actually happening,” “nothing that happens could make me feel confident and relaxed” -- is it an arbitrary fear.

And if it’s arbitrary? Then I know it’s not grounded in reality. I am feeling afraid because my mind tells me I should be afraid -- because of my mind, not because of the situation I’m in.

That could be an invalidating way to think, for some people. (People vary!! If it’s not useful for you, don’t feel bad for throwing it out!) But for me, it’s been very powerful. Because if the only “no” I have is from a fear that isn’t connected to the real, present situation, then I am actually free to choose whatever I want. Including trusting someone I love, and showing them the thing, and allowing myself to be seen and loved in return.

And that is, I think, what is allowing me to slowly, really heal. “Corrective experiences,” perhaps, to replace the ones that taught me to be afraid in the first place.

This is definitely something I experience, and I identify with AvPD very strongly.

I also had obvious social anxiety before I even knew about AvPD. To me, it’s pretty easy to differentiate at this point, because “social anxiety” feels, you know, like anxiety, but my AvPD stuff feels like shame, and the fear of shame.

I experience it like:

social anxiety =

physical tense buzzing wariness

imagining the Bad Thing happening (messing up, being laughed at, humiliated)

catastrophizing

panicky

wanting to escape the danger.

(The danger is a thing Outside of me, which I can be safe from as long as I get out of this situation.)

AvPD moments =

a cold knot of sick shame in my stomach

feeling exposed, seen, defenseless, inexcusable

not having any shields or masks left to hide behind

wanting to flee and be alone / unseen, or

to disappear (dissociate) and be invisible.

(The danger is a thing Inside of me, which I can’t escape ever because it is Me, but which I can avoid having to face as long as I get out of this situation.)

So, the self esteem tug-of-war.

For me, it’s because although I started from a point of being totally incapacitated by AvPD symptoms/self hatred/etc, I’ve spent years rebuilding my self-esteem and creating a sense of who I am. So on good days, I believe in the thing I’ve spent so much time carefully growing – the feeling that I’m an OK person, that I’m likable, that I deserve to have a full life and to enjoy things. (Notice, when I’m in this healthy mindset, I’m not even thinking about “whether other people can see me/how they will judge me”.)

Then sometimes I will be in a lower mood, or something will trigger me into old/negative thought patterns, and I’ll find myself spiraling in “I’m so terrible,” and “any kindness/positivity from others is meaningless, for A, B, or C reasons,“ and “I will be revealed to be Horrible sooner or later, and then I’ll lose every positive relationship I have.”

So I definitely think it is possible to believe you’re worthy and unworthy at almost-the-same-time. Having this kind of push-pull struggle between feelings of adequacy and inadequacy is entirely possible, and it’s probably very normal if you’re in the process of recovering from poor self esteem.

(1) hi, i have really severe social anxiety and i've been wondering if it's possible i actually have avpd. i saw the ask about self-esteem and i kind of related but kind of not if that makes sense? i honestly don't know how i would rate my self esteem. i think i'm a person of worth who is intelligent and talented but i'm always terribly worried that i'm lying to myself and my perceived self is just an ideal i've created and i'm not actually as smart or funny or interesting as i'd like to think.

(2) i guess to rephrase, i think every life has inherent value and that logically applies to my own life, and i have a sense of identity, but i’m scared that it isn’t real. and as ridiculous as it sounds, i’m insecure that this carries into my relationships with other people as well. like with my boyfriend, i worry that i’ve fooled myself into thinking i’m interesting and maybe i’ve somehow managed to fool him, too. i guess i’m wondering if this sounds characteristic of avpd to you at all?

Hey.

It’s hard to say whether this sounds like AvPD or not because low self-esteem can exist with almost any mental illness, or even without it. It can exist with Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD) and it can exist with AvPD. I can’t give you an answer to that, unfortunately.

I would recommend you have a read through the links on our Resources page, but specifically these two links:

AvPD Criteria (in-depth). 

 AvPD or Social Anxiety Disorder (SAD)- Avoidance (forum). 

These should help give you a better understanding and should help you determine whether you have AvPD or SAD. Keep in mind though, you can have both. SAD is very common with in people with AvPD. 

I know personally, my SAD was a pre-cursor for my AvPD. 

- Jay.