Before I was an aware ti I was a “people pleaser” and even now that I know my life is over I still try and “people please” on the off-chance I may impress someone enough to not join the perps against me.
A long time ago, I was always looking for ways for people to “like” me or a place where I could “find my niche” and be accepted. Nothing ever worked for long, but I kept trying…like that mythological creature trying to roll that rock up the hill. It came in spurts. Sometimes I’d leave off and just be obnoxious and live in my fantasy world. Sometimes I’d let my grooming go because it didn’t really matter. I got into a way of dressing down early in life that I’ve never felt I had to overcome since the jobs, the careers, the Husband never came. I was most “dressed” in the 1980s right out of adolescence and before the targetting began. I sort of gave up entirely for a while. Before the shit started in earnest I bought and wore slacks and skirts and clamdiggers and even occasional shorts. I owned real shirts that buttoned, not only t-shirts. I had colorful earrings. I now own 2 shirts that button. One is 12 years old. I wore it to attend a Catholic service to celebrate Pope John Paul II’s life 8 years ago. It was already out of style. I used to like shoes and sandals in different colors and styles and now it’s boots all the time for support after the perps made me dizzy and I’ve had a few falls. I’ve truly forgotten how to walk in heels.
Here is my people pleasing timeline:
- Age 5–I refuse to be in extra gifted class–I want to be like the other kids. Fail.
- Age 7–I get Mother to let me wear bangs like the other kids. Fail.
- Age 12-I fast with the other girls on Yom Kippur even though I will not be having a Bar Mitzvah.
- Age 13-I have a near breakdown when I am refused a “perm” by hairdressers at the hairstyling school since my hair has damage. I wanted to have curly sexy hair to fit in with the other girls.
- Age 15-I get contact lenses to fit in. Fail
- Age 15-I try and talk like a “valley girl” to fit in. Fail. Girls still talk like that, even women. It’s sooo OLD to talk like that. Sometimes I wonder if everything creative and new ended up in the 1980s. Fashion and Music seemed to end up in the 1980s and 1990s. Creativity is dead since only dead people may apply to be in the entertainment business. People who go along with the “program”.
- Age 16-Got pierced ears to Fit In. Got second holes, too. I got a third hole much later but it closed up. Only the first holes work, which is fine since I see women who still do the earrings all up the ear and want to gag.
- Age 19-20–Hung out with much older people at a bar and got drunk to Fit In. My friend that took me to the bar was a woman over a decade older than me and turned perp later on.
- Age 19-21–Hung out at parties where weed was smoked and drinks were served to Fit In. (the few that there were).
- Age 19-26–Played the “nice girl” to my pen pals to Fit In. Eventually Epic Failed. Wow, all the trouble those little bitches went to to dig up shit on me…those girls were PERPS.
- Age 25-30–just sort of gave up on life…went on a diet to Please People. Varied Results.
- Age 30-40–I was a New Christian and tried to be the “good girl” for real this time. Failed time and again. Tried to curry favor with people by cooking elaborate meals and treats. The cooking bribery worked for AWHILE.
- Age 40-45–Seeing an aging face I tried makeup every day for the first time since the targetting began. Had “success” picking up a police informant in the guise of a pitiful homeless man. He rewarded me by breaking my computer and sending me into a deep depression.
- Age 45 to now–Tried to become a “good” Christian again. Trying to impress or at least mollify God. I thought Jesus died once and for all for all believers. I did not know it was a daily thing to show God you mean it. It is not working that well despite the best effort I have ever put forth for anything in my life.
Well, pleasing God is one thing, but my people pleasing days are OVER. OK, a few exceptions: I find myself trying to please the Doctor that I’m trying to be healthy. I find myself trying to please the Vet by appearing to be the Conscientious Cat Owner. I still find myself trying to please my therapist by dressing a little better for sessions than I would dress ordinarily…maybe to convince her I’m sane and the stalking is real or that I’m not ready for the looney bin yet.
By the way, where is Neverending1? Does anyone know?