Stop caring what other people think of me

I’ve done two things today to inch along in this goal. The second one was the most recent, and took place on Facebook.
I’ve been thinking about bone marrow donation and started a thread about it on a forum. I’m not trying to make people join the register, but there are many myths around bone marrow donation and little conversation. After posting I went on You Tube to look at videos on the subject. I found one that said something that made my eyebrows shoot up:

Did you know that umbilical cords and placentas can be donated and used to treat cancer patients?

I had forgotten this and thought back to last week when Steve told me about his brother’s new baby; they were bringing the placenta back home to bury in the garden. Because I’ve never been pregnant I don’t know how explicitly expecting parents are told about donation, or the potential to save lives.

Perhaps it touches a nerve for me because my mum had cancer last year, and my grandfather suffered badly with it before he died.

I don’t think it’s the parents fault if they don’t donate (you can’t be at fault if you don’t know) but I’m very surprised there isn’t more effort among the medical community to advertise this information in clinics and in prenatal classes. I’m sure more people would choose to donate and save a life rather than bury it, however ceremoniously.

Bringing one life into the world while at the same time stopping one from going out sounds like a good deal to me!

So, what has this to do with this goal? I hate the possibility of offending someone. I squirm. I become very nervous, even if what I have to say is reasonable.
One of my friends had a baby last year, and another one is expecting any day now. As far as I know neither of these two women did or plan to donate stem cells, and I wouldn’t want to upset Steve either. As much as I care about this, I didn’t want to say anything because I cared too much about what people think about me.

But I remembered this goal.
I thought… no. Don’t get sucked into that loop, you don’t know what’s going to happen and you have good intentions. I really don’t want to upset anybody because I’d be upset – maybe even more upset – if they were upset.
But I do think raising awareness is important, and breaking this cycle is important too.

I made a post, and attached the video. I still feel nervous, but what can people say? “How dare you! I didn’t do this and you’re saying I could have done this! Don’t tell me what to do!”?

Anyway, last night on the same forum I started the bone marrow thread on, I replied to a topic about racism. Someone said they didn’t like the word racist because they thought the word was racist in and of itself because it assumes there are races and re-enforces those barriers.
I disagreed and said that while I don’t believe in different races, there are deep social constructs based around the idea of race. Racism is the label we give to identify these constructs so we can highlight and talk about them. Racism exists even if race is abstract. To give an example I said, “Currently there is a giant swastika inked onto one of the houses that overlooks my garden because it was built by Polish workers last year.”

Someone read that today and totally misunderstood me. They thought I meant the Polish workers themselves had painted the swastika on the walls and ranted about how the Polish people had suffered during the war, how the workers were jerks and finished this tirade by saying “I hope you understand that.” It was as if they were accusing me of putting it up there!

My heart clenched. My instinct is to always bow and apologise and be concerned and make the peace. I took a few breaths and said:

It wasn’t drawn by the Polish workers, it was drawn by someone against the workers because they were Polish. It wouldn’t make sense for the workers to deface the house, for all the reasons you’ve given.

It was simple, but I felt so good about myself for doing that. I didn’t give my power away, I didn’t apologise, I kept calm and I didn’t jab at them for being aggressive or intimidating me either.

They replied a few minutes later and apologised, and I wrote back and told them not to worry but I appreciated them saying sorry.

I feel strong clearing even this small thing. With practice, I hope the heart clenches can become less and less…. and go… away…

After writing the last entry, it strikes me that some people live for praise and affirmation from other people which is the flip side of where I’ve been focused.

I frequently check for cheers of support here on 43 Things, and I’m genuinely moved or pleasantly surprised when people compliment me. I know my esteem is shaky and perhaps one day I ought to wean myself off my semi-dependency on other people. I doubt I’ll ever stop being delighted by these comments, but everyone needs this inner strength and independence.

Ultimately I believe we are all interconnected, and however independent we are a healthy interdependency is what matters.

What are your thoughts though on relying on other people’s praise? For the most part, does it even matter?
The majority of the entries for this goal naturally seem to be about not caring about the people who get you down, but what are your thoughts on the other side of the coin? What about stopping caring about other people’s approval? And can you even separate the two?

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

All my life I’ve been worrying about what people will think of me, but recently this fear has been carefully honed in on one thing: how am I gonna explain ME to everyone?

You see, when you’re at home and you’re ill and you’re doing your daily routine, you don’t have to think about your illness. No one is asking you questions so you feel like yourself rather than different to anyone, and, apart from the times you have a mini panic and feel like you have to justify yourself to yourself, you don’t have to answer to anyone either.

Since I’ve been meeting new people, I’ve avoided talking about, mentioning or letting on I have ME or how bad it is. This means the group of people I know (who are all very similar, very healthy athletic types) don’t really know what life is like for me. They don’t know that I spend days in bed after meeting up with them, for example.
Steve knows, and told me he mentioned to Olli and Fred that I have to “recover” after each meal. They said they had no idea and were apparently sympathetic and eager to know more. The trouble is… I don’t know how to talk about this.

I worry what people will think about me. I don’t want to get upset in front of people, cry, appear, well, lame on multiple levels.

I remember all the past bad situations, like Francis or Drew. Drew, one of the group members who I let in about my ME, was somewhat of a disaster. He turned up at my house one night, claiming that just 2% of what he had to tell me could change my life for ever. He had a hand gesture to go with this claim that he kept making, over and over again. “It’s not your fault you don’t know any of this,” he said, “but I can teach you all these things. I can help you. Your mind can heal your body. Just 2% of what I’m telling you, if you let it, could totally turn you around. Just two per cent!” That two per cent lasted for about two hours and needless to say I felt patronized literally to tears.

It happened that when I decided to start writing back to anyone as soon as they wrote to me (emails, private messages or public posts on Facebook etc) I had to stop caring what people thought of me. I had to put aside that “this isn’t funny enough/clever enough/enough enough” mindset. I had to just say it and submit it.

I’m socially anxious – no diagnosed with anything, but I’m undeniable stressed when interacting with people. Case in point: it’s not unusual if I say hello to someone on MSN, and if they pause before they say hello back (as is fairly common) my heart beats faster and I think “Oh my word, I’ve offended them somehow at sometime really really badly, WHAT DID I DO?”

It’s crazy and I have to laugh while writing it, but it’s true.

I’ve known for years that I have to stop caring so much about what people think about me, and that stopping caring is what will really help me talk to people about ME. Practicing quickly writing back to people has made it click. Not just click but clunk loudly and noticeably into place.

I didn’t realise it was practice, but that’s exactly what it’s turned out to be.

I have so much anger and sadness and pain about having ME. No wonder: for years the medical establishment has thought that ME was a psychiatric condition, and even though in the 80s it was proven to be physical it’s taken a long, long time to trickle through. I’ve felt branded rather than diagnosed, and I never know what people will say or if they will judge me. It burns all the more because, when all is said and done, I’m ill. Really ill. And I don’t need salt rubbed into that wound over and over again. No one does, even if you do think 2% of what you have to say to me could change my life.

Difficult conversations are made more difficult because we anticipate a struggle, and if I don’t care what they think of me then it doesn’t matter what they do or say. I don’t expect prejudices to never bother me again, but I don’t have to carry them around with me either.

I’m gonna stop caring what other people think of me, and leave all that at their door.

What is ME?
http://www.mefmaction.net/MECFSFM/MECFSQA/tabid/107/Default.aspx

http://www.cfids-cab.org/MESA/

http://www.meresearch.org.uk/information/whatisme.html

http://name-us.org/