Playing secret Santa with other people’s emotions had begun to take a toll physically. In the past, I felt like it was my job to take other people’s baggage and pile it on my back. Why’d I feel like an emotional garbage dump? At the time, I didn’t know. I have always had an awesome way of finding the good in everyone and most everything’s space. I could find ways to love everyone for something. I genuinely care about other people’s feelings; I’ve always wanted to help people in some way, I’ve always wanted the best for everyone. On the negative side of things, the fact that others did not care about me in those same ways was hurtful. I tried to get angry, but I couldn’t – not for long – because I knew that I was the one playing secret Santa. The majority had no idea what I was doing behind the curtain.
I did not love myself to the degree that I loved everyone else (/strange). Some say you cannot love anyone until you love yourself, but I did. I loved everyone in a Spiritual sense. Feeling other people’s pain in such a deep sense drew me closer; hurting anyone would be the same as hurting myself. Loving everybody so much is what zapped my self-esteem even lower. That is what started eating at my physical health – giving, and giving, and giving in a Spiritual sense and receiving nothing (or nothing much) in return. I did it to myself. I compared myself to others. Others compared me to others. I knew I was different; comparing myself to others stressed those differences; stressed the ‘there’s something wrong with me’ thoughts. I spent all of my energy romanticizing everyone else, trying to deflect attention from my flaws. Wishing I was more like her, him, it who/whatever; worrying more and more about things I could not control.