Last night I re-shared a post from Memorial Day 2024. Within minutes, I lost 3 paid subscribers. I deleted it with a quickness. The only reason I know is because Substack instantly shares stats when you open the app. I can’t stand it because I don’t wanna know. I’m aware that my numbers are pitiful, you don’t have to shove it in my face.
People leave everyday for their own reasons (the same way I do) but my brain takes it so damn personally. Then I ruminate and spiral and make apologies for my existence…
It’s the same when it comes to my work - it barely sells. It’s probably because I’m terrible at promotion but again, my brain defaults to “no, it’s because what you create sucks and everyone hates you sooo….”
Please, why are you so mean to me?
Then there’s human interaction. I’m unclear how to people.
The quick check-in text, the email, the video chat…
My brain 100% hyper fixated on every word before and afterwards.
I sounded like an idiot.
Oh no, was that offensive?
Ugh, I should have said it that way.
Sometimes I wait to respond until I find words that feel ok and before I realize it, a month has passed. Then I’m too embarrassed to write back and I look like a flake. But if you’ve ever reached out to me please know that your name is on a colorful post-it note in my home regardless of how long it’s been.
I really am trying.
The kind-hearted butcher who I asked for a hug? I wanted to invite her for tea. It took me a week to text her. This is what I wrote:
“Hi Pam, happy Friday. Would you like to have tea one day?”
That took me an entire week.
She wrote back but didn’t answer my question and now I feel extra dumb.
Robin, I hate you. You ruin everything.
I want to hide but the loneliness is painful too.
I have no clue how to exist.
I can’t even care for my own basic needs.
I have heaps of work to do today but I don’t care. My brain is stuck on how I messed up in my text and what I said wrong in my post. The truth is that I didn’t mess up or say anything wrong but tell that to my heart. And it’s deeper than “I feel like I do life ass backwards.” I genuinely feel like who I am as a person is defective.
I despise how trauma and neglect have hard-wired the beliefs I have about myself.
It’s makes me sad because I’m actually a decent person.
Please be easy with folks.
Many of us are carrying heaviness that isn’t ours but we aren’t able to put it down even though we really want to.
~Robin
We are bombarded with success stories exclusively where key elements are missing, so we don't have a remotely realistic understanding of what it takes to sell the content online.
Your writing helps uncover the ugly truth, it is authentic. Thank you for that! 🩷
Exactly. It’s nearly impossible to talk our trauma brain and trauma heart off the cliff of worrying about seemingly small things that we actually haven’t done wrong. And the price of poverty is that you don’t have time for trauma this but you have more of it to deal with.
I just read a really interesting essay about how we punish ourselves by measuring what should be easy by how much time or effort it should take and not by how much it weighs on us.
I had a project that I didn’t know how much time it would take but it ended up taking a little over a hour. Once I started it wasn’t that hard either. But it weighed so much. It was so important and the responsibility of it was weighing on me. I’ve had 2 minute phone calls I needed to make weigh on me because of my fear of being a nuisance. This new framing helped me realize that it only adds to my suffering to punish myself for what weighs on me because it’s not difficult for people who don’t have my trauma or neurodivergence.
And I’m sure, absolutely certain, every message from you is a gift whenever you deliver it. 💗