(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.
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
“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.
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.)
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.
The best thing about bravery is even a little is enough.
Beau Taplin
You don’t actually have to love yourself to be happy, healthy, and stable. Here are some beliefs that you can work towards instead
- no one deserves bad treatment, including you - You deserve to be treated with self kindness & to meet you own physical and emotional needs - Physical appearance isn’t the most important thing, and even if you’re unattractive you deserve to be able to live your life without shame - that no one is expected to be perfect at everything they try, and that it’s ok to enjoy things you aren’t good at - It’s more interesting and fun to focus your thoughts outward on the world and other people than to think about how much you like or dislike yourself - That everyone makes mistakes and does embarrassing things, and that an embarrassing event might feel really terrible but it’s not actually a threat - It’s not worth obsessing over whether you are a good or bad person, bc those things don’t really exist. (There are only good & bad actions; humans are way too complex & ever changing to fit into black & white labels) - Your thoughts and emotions are as valid & real as anyone else’s
Basically, the goal with all of this is to accept that you can treat yourself with self compassion. It is going to be near impossible to be happy if you constantly tear yourself down, or if you don’t respect needs, but it’s definitely possible to be happy feeling pretty meh about it.
I recommend focusing on things you believe are true for all people, then working back to yourself (for example, that everyone deserves to be treated kindly, that physical appearance isn’t shameful, that everyone makes mistakes, etc). Make self kindness the goal. When you are being mean to yourself, remind yourself to be kinder. If you feel horrible about a mistake remember you are only human. And the rest of the time? Pour your energy into creating meaningful activities in your life. Make art, chase goals, call friends, read books, learn, create, engage. You will find the works is much bigger and brighter when you make room for something besides self criticism.
i went out to the cinema with my mum and my friend yesterday and i was pretty fine i didnt rlly struggle with it like i thought i would when a few hours before leaving i felt physically ill and extremely exhausted just because i knew it was coming. and now i feel like im spiraling im dissociated and i feel like im faking everything because how can i be mentally ill when i left the house for the first time in weeks and was fine? does it mean im faking?
Hello anon! No, that definitely doesn’t mean you’re faking.
I can think of a couple different things that might explain it.
It sounds like your anxiety before the event was worse than it was during it.
Sometimes, the wait before a distressing thing can be much harder than actually going through it. That’s common, and it’s an okay way to feel. (In fact, for me personally, that’s the main way my anxiety presents itself.)
Maybe you felt comfortable, because your mom and your friend were there.
Maybe you were enjoying the cinema so much, you didn’t feel distressed.
Maybe after all the anxiety beforehand, you were just too exhausted to freak out anymore.
Or maybe you were slightly dissociated – just enough to take the edge off and allow you to function semi-normally.
The thing about our brains & minds is that they don’t really follow any rules. They just do whatever works best in the moment.
And what works best can vary a lot from day to day. Sometimes it’s easier (or harder) to cope, due to other factors. So your symptoms or issues can fluctuate, too.
That doesn’t mean “nothing’s wrong with you” – it doesn’t mean your mental illness is imaginary, or that it’s disappeared. And it doesn’t mean you’re faking.
It just means that on this day, for some reason that may or may not be obvious, you were able to handle that outing more easily than you expected.
That’s not a guarantee that you’ll always be able to do it so easily, and other people shouldn’t assume it is.
The best we can do is look at our patterns over time, try to understand what conditions are best for us – what we need in order to function best & be happy – and work on feeling okay giving that to ourselves.
Earlier in my life, I’d dissociate under stress.
But in some situations, it was more protective to fawn and comply. So while I was there, I’d act super friendly, engaged and responsive, for hours at a time.
And as soon as I got out of the situation, I’d shut down and dissociate completely. I couldn’t move, talk, or think. Once my stress level was low enough to tolerate, I’d “come down” from the dissociation.
At first, I resisted the shutdown because it was terrifying and silent and awful. But when I stopped fighting it, I found myself recovering more quickly, because I wasn’t adding to the stress. So I started thinking of it as “resting” and “re-stabilizing.”
A similar thing still happens when I get overstimulated by light, noise, or other people’s emotions: I naturally withdraw into myself until I can regroup.
It’s possible you also experienced that during/after the cinema.
You might have been overwhelmed by sensory stuff from being in public, other people’s feelings and reactions, or your own feelings. Or maybe you were just totally exhausted.
The important thing to know is that dissociation is a self-protective act. It’s not always the BEST coping mechanism you could use, but it is one, and it works. It shields you from overwhelming feelings until you have the resources to deal with them.
If you’re dissociating, it’s probably because you’re having a hard time right now.
That’s the bottom line. So when you’re ready to take care of your feelings, anything you can do to help yourself feel calmer, comforted, soothed, and grounded, isgoing to help.
It may not feel comfortable at first – after all, when you’re dissociated, it’s because you’re afraid to feel – but if you’re ready to come back to yourself, then go ahead, even though it feels awkward and hard. You’ll be okay.
When you find yourself dissociated, try and be gentle with yourself. Don’t judge or hate on yourself for it. Just be a little nicer than usual. Take care of yourself and your poor stressed-out brain.
You can take a nap, do a nice sensory thing like a scented bath or shower, cuddle with a pet, listen to music that you love, give yourself a hand or foot massage, write in a journal, do a guided meditation, or anything that you find restorative and calming.
Basically, anything that reminds you “hey, sometimes being in the moment actually feels okay.”
Right now, it’s probably really hard, but that doesn’t mean it will be this way forever. Over time, you’ll be able to handle it more easily and comfortably.
Thanks for writing to me, and I hope you feel much better soon! <3
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)
Hm... I definitely have some dependent traits. But some borderline traits, too, and a few NPD.
(I have a theory that AvPD, BPD and NPD are different expressions of the same core issue. They all circle around a very particular kind of shame, which is why we can all learn a lot from each other. I’ll have to do more research before I can figure out if DPD fits the same pattern though)
I believe I have both avpd and dpd, but it's kind of confusing for me. Do you think that's possible, and if so how do you think a person with both would behave (for comparison to myself)?
I think DPD is confusing for a lot of people, so don’t worry, you’re not alone in that. But AvPD and DPD is actually a really common co-morbidity, as you can see by the data at this link: here. (Beware of Out of the FOG in general, but it’s the only site that has statistical data on these things.) Plus, PDs are most co-morbid with other ones in the same cluster.
Someone with both AvPD and DPD would probably have a pronounced relationship with a “safe person”, I imagine. Who in this case would also be what I think the majority of the DPD community refers to as their “depended”. But while most people with DPD seek validation and dependence from many people, and rely on the opinions of others for whatever they do, I think people with AvPD as well would mainly focus on the one person, and be terrified of engaging with others, even if they wanted to.
But experiences will vary, as they always do. There are a myriad of experiences for any disorder, so matter what the clinical expectation is. Some people suffer from some symptoms more than others.
I hope that helps!
- Shinji
(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?
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.)
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.
Shout out to people like me who have parents who are loving but are black holes of emotional labor… It took me a long time to realize that it’s okay to have mixed feelings about your parents, about your relationship with them.
Sometimes parents can love you but be somewhat toxic to you and your growth, and that’s a very hard realization to come to if you, like me, grew up extremely close to them.
Sometimes parents can love you genuinely but lack emotional maturity, forcing you to perform disproportionate amounts of emotional labor. Some parents manifest symptoms of their mental illness in ways that are toxic to your mental illness.
Some parents, like mine, try so hard to be good parents but fall back on habits of emotional manipulation because they haven’t processed their own traumas and are modeling behavior they grew up with. That doesn’t make their behavior acceptable, and it’s okay to feel exhausted and hurt when they betray you. You don’t have to forgive every mistake.
I want you to know that it’s okay to protect yourself, to need some space apart from them. The love you have for your parents is still valid, and you are making the right decision.
Placing a safe emotional distance between myself and my parents has been one of the most difficult, heartbreaking processes I’ve ever gone through… it hurts to try to curb the strength of your own natural empathy around people you love. It feels disingenuous to your heart’s natural state.
But I promise you, you are not hard-hearted or ungrateful, and you are not abandoning them. You are making a decision about your own emotional, mental, and spiritual health.
I know what it’s like in that confusing grey area of love mixed with guilt and anxiety, of exhaustion and quasi-manipulation and unreciprocated emotional labor, and I promise you, you are not alone.
Your mixed feelings about your parents are valid.
This is worth doing, no matter what outwardly-visible, culturally-acknowledged things I do or don’t achieve.
This is worth doing just for me.