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When You’re So Scared of Being the Mean Girl That You Project & Assume Everyone Hates You

·458 words·3 mins
Mental Health

The other day I was waiting for the doctor for quite a long time, wearing the little paper gown and nothing else. Not a big deal at first. I’m patient. Had my phone and plenty of battery life. Managed to do some work and chat with friends while waiting.

But when it was starting to be 15 minutes before the office closed for the day and I still hadn’t been seen, I poked my head out into the hallway to see if I could make sure I hadn’t been forgotten.

Because I had visions of the medical staff going home and leaving me there. And the janitor coming into my exam room to pick up. Meanwhile, I’d still be wearing that paper gown, feeling vulnerable and worried about my health.

Just like a sit com. My anxiety likes to imagine sit com scenarios.

I was off in a cul de sac so no luck making eye contact with a medical professional when I poked my head out. Boo. I skulked back off to the exam table.

And as I was waiting those final few moments for the doctor, I had a big epiphany.

I’ve had a really hard time the past couple of years, thinking that people don’t like me. Seriously, it’s been a very marked uptick the past few years.

And it dawned on me then that the reason for this might be because I actually dislike them. The pandemic really showed me the ugly sides of people. And I’ve been so annoyed and bored with so many people that I’ve probably projected that onto other people.

Instead of accepting that I don’t like them, I turn it around so they don’t like me.

To avoid being a mean girl, I suppose.

This was an uncomfortable realization. About as uncomfortable as sitting for an hour and a half wearing nothing but a paper gown, worried that the lights were going to get turned off and the janitor was going to come in to clean.

The good news is that I have hope. The last few months have been markedly better in many ways. A big reason is the Poly Land Discord server. Seriously. The people on there have worked wonders restoring my heavily battered faith in humanity.

And the other good news is that the doctor eventually came. She was extremely apologetic — had been having the workday from Hell. We had a good laugh about my janitor image. She assured me that they are never that prompt cleaning the building at night.

And the other good news is that there are plenty of good people in the world still, even if I’m having a hard time recovering from how tough the past few years have been.


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