I was thinking today about my life as that of a drama queen. I elicited pity out of so many, by taking the (pretty awful) circumstances of my health, and adding my own personal script. And that is only one example — I’m sure I’ve used multiples of thousands of dramatic reactions to increase sympathy from my family.
I didn’t plan any of those incidences, either. I slip so easily into the role of drama queen that the most minor problems get equally broad, sweeping reactions. Drama helped me survive all the years of depression caused by my diabetes and my doctor. I have been a needy soul for all my life.
And, somewhere inside, I knew I was doing this. Some sick part of me wanted the attention of being an invalid. I didn’t believe I would warrant attention any other way. But I have learned all this in the process of looking back and sorting out the years; at the time, I acted on the fact that more drama meant more attention. I feel a strong need to make amends for this, even though I wasn’t purposely acting, but rather, acting out behaviors from childhood.
My family, my friends, my coworkers and bosses, even my neighbors have been affected by my behavior. My poor mother has been pushed nearly to distraction by my illnesses, physical and mental. I regret all of those drama queen moments, even though at the time I didn’t know what else to do. Thank you for your patience with me.
My dear sister, S., has likely answered the phone over a thousand times to hear me weeping on the other end. She faithfully supports my growth; she is always gentle, which I so appreciate; and from her example I am learning to drop some of the drama, and just cope with life as it comes. Thank you, S.
Each member of my family has contributed to my well-being in some way, as have so many acquaintances and friends. To all of you, I regret all the drama queen moments, and I am doing better most days. Thank you all.
This was just something I needed to say.
I love you all.