Confrontation

I am absolutely terrified of confrontation. Of any confrontation.

Let's say I go to the bathroom at school. If there's another person in the bathroom I have to wait for them to leave before I can exit the stall because I don't want to have to confront the possibility of talking to them. I know it's stupid, I know nothing at all bad would happen, but it still scares me.

Or I'm at a stop sign and there's another car at the same intersection. I get a panic attack and freeze up because even if I know which of us has the right of way, I still don't know who is going to go first. That's why I failed my first driving test.

And when someone, anyone, catches me doing something wrong, I will lie about it.

I can't help it. It's compulsive. Even though I know it's a terrible idea and it's only going to get me into deeper trouble I am so absolutely terrified of that person being mad at me that I can't tell them the truth and admit I fucked up. I try to lie and smooth it over so they won't get upset with me. I know it will only get worse, but I will still do it. Every. Time.

This is why I try to live an honest life. Not because I think it's the right thing to do (although it is) but so that there won't be any reason for me to lie.

I know where this stems from. I am completely aware this is another offshoot of my Daddy Complex. When I was a kid my dad would could shoulder me and down talk me if I did even the slightest thing out of his taste, and so I desperately tried to cover it up whenever I screwed up.

So, yeah. I know I have a problem. I know why I have a problem. I am willing to admit this and ask for help.

Which means I think it's completely uncalled for that my Mom's initial reaction is to say I'm insulting her by saying talking to her could possibly be a sort of confrontation, and that her proceeding to make fun of me for admitting I even have problems talking to people at school in the bathroom is just mean spirited. I don't know what to say. She and my brother were both laughing, but I was crying. Even if it was a joke, even if my fears are utterly ridiculous and are practically begging to be made fun of... They are still my fears, and they are legitimate enough to me that it hurts me when they are made fun of. If I am crying it is not funny.