by Jessi Robinson
Recently, I stepped outside of my comfort zone and did something I have long wanted to do: I got my hair foiled in non-natural colors (blue and green, to be specific). My hairdresser and I were both excited about the adventure, and we were pleased with the result. My wife was beyond happy; knowing this was something I’d hemmed and hawed over for a while, she was not only happy I did it but also loved the outcome.
Three days later, I arrived in my office. I knew that the color wouldn’t be an issue, no matter what anyone thought, but I was nervous about those thoughts and reactions. The compliments came rolling in. EVERYONE loved my hair; even people I don’t interact with commented positively.
And then, my past came back to haunt me. Despite the fact that I am surrounded by grown-ass women and men, most of whom are older than me, doubt creeps in, and I question everyone’s sincerity.
“Does she mean that?”
“Are they talking about my hair?”
“Do I look ridiculous?”
“Did I make a huge mistake?”
This is what it always comes down to: thinking everything I do or say is being scrutinized by everyone around me. I’m still in elementary and middle school being tortured by the cool girls for being poor and not being taught all about beauty and looks. My self-worth was so shattered that I chose to attend a vocational high school an hour away MOSTLY because I needed to get away from the people with whom I’d grown up.
I’ve learned a lot about mental illness since then (being married to an LICSW will do that to you), and I know that my anxiety disorder is situationally rooted in the experiences I had as a child. School was a terrible place for me, and home was only slightly better, so my stress levels were always heightened, adding to the anxiety, which spiralled into depression. I actually remember the first time I didn’t want to be on earth anymore: fourth grade, in the fall. I remember telling a friend (who wouldn’t be my friend by the end of the year) that I just wanted to be up in the clouds and not worry about anything anymore. Five years later, I was self-injuring and wishing I was dead instead of just in the clouds.
And now, over 20 years later, I STILL hear snide comments in my head (both those of the past and ones I make up for current situations), question people’s sincerity, and wonder when the whole charade will come crumbling down. This fear creeps into every relationship I have – intimate friendships, colleagues, my marriage – everything is vaguely shadowed by my feelings of worthlessness and inadequacy. Yes, I am a 36-year-old woman, and I don’t always know if my friendships and marriage are real.
Don’t get me wrong; with medication, CBT, and maturity, this is no longer my constant state of being, but mental illness is rarely cured, only managed. My management has changed over the years: I’ve been on and off meds and in and out of talk therapy since I was 15. Each worked for a while, then I needed to explore other options. I hope I’ve found the right, final combination, but only time will tell.
Jessi Robinson is the Graduation Coordinator at University of Massachusetts Boston. She earned a BA in English from Salem State College & an MS in College Student Development & Counseling from Northeastern University. Her professional interests lie in advising, retention, and persistence. When she’s not reviewing degree audits or awarding diplomas, she is an avid Girl Scout volunteer and animal-herder of 1 wife, 2 cats, & a dog. Learn more or get in touch with Jessi at http://about.me/jrobin19 or @jrobin19.