When I was first writing Daydreamer, I was not aware that I was an avoidant.
My attachment style was not known to me but subconsciously, I knew something was off. When looking back at my old writing, it amazes me how aware I was despite not having the education to describe I was feeling.
Being an avoidant is still something I am working on. I am still trying to shake away the learned behaviors and grow. It has always been hard to allow people in. I fear rejection – I have always been told I’m too sensitive, too much, too something. Ever since I could remember, I have had people constantly attacking my true self. I was never allowed to just be me without someone making a mean comment. At home, school, work – someone just had to say something. It hurts.
So in response – when I’m upset, I retreat into myself and the world. I isolate. I prefer my own company because I know that I can be myself without quarry.
This poem was inspired by many things – when I was severely depressed and those around me did not know how to help someone like me. I was called too depressing and negative while I was suffering. I was shamed for my anxiety and panic attacks. I was rejected when I was at my most vulnerable. Most raw.
It shaped me – but has not defined me – that dark period. I’m stronger because of it and I will continue to be stronger for the little girl that no one stood up for. I will be the hero that she needed.
My earliest memories of being an avoidant was early elementary school-era. I had fallen and my classmates tried to help me – asking if I was okay.
In response, I was enraged! HOW DARE YOU ASK ME THAT?! Of course I’m okay? Why wouldn’t I be okay?
I still react that way to this day. To be honest, I would respond that way if anyone reading this messaged me lol
I will continue to strive to defeat this cycle – starting with this poem I wrote for Daydreamer:
like a wounded animal,
watch your step or else i’ll attack. i can’t handle it–being coddled. hugged. touched. too many hands.
fingers gripping. caressing. suffocating, i can’t breathe. back off. i can’t see.
kind words are like needles to my pride. i’m strong. i can handle this.
i don’t need anyone.
i can’t trust. no one. me. only me.
it has always been me. my voice.
in here. they weren’t here before.
do they even care? i am a burden–to everyone.
i’m ruining the moment. i’m a mess.
unwanted. undeserving of love. of a normal life. crawl, i will crawl away. i will curl
up and wait to die. the hail taps at me
to see if i am awake but i roll over
and pretend i am asleep.
their kinds words rub me the wrong way. rough and brash, it tears
at my tender skin. it’s raw,
this flesh. it doesn’t know
how to be comforted
so why can’t anyone understand?
i need space. space. space?
i need to feel safe in my space.
safe in my space, i need to be safe in space.
it’s finite here; there are four walls. it has an end. but this feeling, it never stops.
never ends. depression is infinite–
the possibilities paralyze me. i can’t have peace but in here, i can control my fate.
even if it leaves me alone,
i will always know
i have my safe space.