The Struggle Is Real

Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. Apparently, it’s a thing. I only recently discovered this condition, and it seems to apply to me, and it goes hand-in-hand with ADHD. RSD is an extreme emotional sensitivity and emotional pain triggered by the perception – not necessarily the reality – that a person has been rejected by important people in their life. I have never been officially diagnosed with ADHD, or any other mental disorder for that matter, probably because I’ve never been officially assessed. But I’ve lived with generalized anxiety for years, according to many online quizzes, and now I discover I have ADHD. And RSD. Lovely.
I hate labels. Especially labels for things I’d rather not advertise. But I love explanations. Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria explains why I am utterly distraught when certain people don’t contact me for more than a day, instead of just being annoyed and brushing it off. Why I can go from feeling perfectly fine to majorly depressed in an instant, when they don’t call like they said they would, or by a certain time. They say it helps to put a name to the crazy. I don’t know about that.
I have always had issues with rejection. I grew up in homes where I was often ignored either purposely or circumstantially. I spent a great deal of time alone, with minimal emotional attachments. I learned to be comfortable with just myself as company. The one person I did become attached to was schizophrenic and due to a series of mental breakdowns throughout my childhood, I kept getting separated from her over and over. I always lived in other people’s houses, never my own. Other people’s parents, other people’s stuff. I was destined to have rejection issues.
But, blah blah blah, right? We’re adults now, no one wants to hear it, put on your big girl britches and get over it. Don’t dwell on the past, let go of childhood issues, what happened, happened. That’s not what’s happening now. Grow up, be a different person. Don’t let your past affect your future.
I don’t, not on the outside anyway. The people I love have no idea how devastated I feel when rejected, or even what makes me feel rejected. I only lose my shit in my room alone – never in public, NEVER around or toward the object of my rejection. Because I feel like a stupid crybaby about it. Because I know they would never understand, much less empathize – hell, I just recently started revealing my anxiety issues to friends. Adding more diagnoses just makes me feel like I look like a nutcase. Primed for – you guessed it – REJECTION.
So I downplay my darkest emotions, and pretend to be nonplussed. I make extra effort to get along, and especially not make people mad, short of compromising my integrity. I quit before I’m fired, both in relationships and jobs: the one and only time I was ever fired from a job, I had a full-blown panic attack and an hour-long crying fit, and I didn’t even want the job anymore.
I don’t know what I’ll do with this latest information. Therapy isn’t known to help, and I won’t take medication. I actually feel better just knowing it’s an actual thing and not just my own personal delusion, that other people are suffering the same way and just trying to live happy, just like me.
Cause thinking you’re all alone in the world is crazy-making. As if I wasn’t already crazy enough.

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