[ SECRET POST #2088 ]

[case]

⌈ Secret Post #2088 ⌋

Warning: Some secrets are NOT worksafe and may contain SPOILERS.

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Notes:

Secrets Left to Post: 01 pages, 021 secrets from Secret Submission Post #298.
Secrets Not Posted: [ 0 - broken links ], [ 0 - not!secrets ], [ 0 - not!fandom ], [ 0 - too big ], [ 0 - repeat ].
Current Secret Submissions Post: here.
Suggestions, comments, and concerns should go here.

Comments

OP

[(Anonymous)]

>I spent quite a bit of time this week fixating on my abnormal reactions to an emotional situation I was in and forcing myself to "role-play" someone with the appropriate response.

That's a pretty good coping technique, I've gotta say. A lot of the time when I find myself shutting down or disengaging when I didn't want to deal or didn't have the tools to deal with the situation. I mean, I help when I'm needed, I respond if I have to, but I just... go away until what I'm used to and comfortable with crops up.

>Part of me wants to protect that, even in its ugliest form because it seems so amazing to me

I'm at this point now. A few years ago, I didn't have the perspective to realize that, in it's own way, that kind of shelter is precious. I would never, ever, want anybody to have to experience the shit I have unless they already have.

That hard ugly shit that I'm used to is my own kind of shelter. When I can't deal with comfort and safety, I tend to shut myself away from it. I guess it's complementary.

Re: OP

[anonymouslyyours]

I don't know if you have siblings? But when I was going through the hardest years I tore myself apart trying to protect mine from the worst of it and apparently I did such a good job at it that they don't really have an idea of what I went through and they can be pretty ungrateful at times so maybe it was easier for me to see what a special thing that kind of ignorance can be. As hurtful as it can be I would never want them to have any understanding of what they escaped.

"That hard ugly shit that I'm used to is my own kind of shelter."
Very much this. It feels like an armor that reminds me of how strong I am. All the things that other people pity me for when they find out about just feel like ammunition for me. I just look at them and know that if something happened I already know I could survive.