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seekinginnerwisdom · 2 months

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I am an older female INFP and I first took the test as a teen and have consistently gotten the same results, regardless of website or version of test. And I was always kinda secretly proud to be one because my mom was struggling with my teen sister's bipolar/hormone powered rage and my dad, I think, was one of us too. He was a reserved, weird, sweet, unfocused mess who avoided conflict unless drafted (little war humor, get it from my dad). So I became my mom's confidant which made me feel helpful and special at the time but i now know probably wasnt "healthy".

Fast forward to now and I've earned a number of invisible "survivor of *insert trauma*" medals for myself. And just recently earned myself a small one for "surviving break up with first boyfriend after divorce" Its doesnt have a catchy title and I dont know how I they fit all the words on such a small surface but I'm proud of my small accomplishment. 13 years married, 6 years single, 2.5 years with him...alone again.

Shouldn't I be devastated longer than a week? He did it really poorly, too. Asked for a break a week before which took me by surprise, then 4 days later he told me he loved me and didnt want to break up but still needed time to figure things out, a few days later and its I want to be your friend but nothing more.

It was a back and forth conversation and he's telling me he's not attracted to me anymore and quickly adds "it's not because of the weight" (to clarify I have been struggling with my stomach and have lost 40 lbs which sounds great, unless you weren't overweight before and now I look like a skeleton). When he said that I couldn't help but laugh in that hurt way, where its brevity and pain mixed with a scoff (just me?) And not expecting a reply I rolled my eyes away from him and ask "so it's just me as a person" and there wasnt much hesitation before I hear a soft but steady "yes" behind me. As you can imagine, I didnt respond well to having my entire existence be rejected so i did something he had never seen me do. I yelled at him and kicked him out of my car. Then I tried to go back to work. Yup, he broke up with me in the middle of the work day. I'm sorry this is so long and I even skipped parts.

I left early and took a pill or two more than recommended and just ran away from consciousness as fast as modern medicine could get me there. (I dont post much so I dont know if I need to worry about responses but I took low doses of anti anxiety meds that wouldnt harm me unless i consume the whole bottle. I took 1 mg more than normal. Dont attack me). I got him to be more specific in his choice of break up methods the next week after texting to let him know I wrote a 7 page goodbye letter and how he has come out of this looking like a psychopath.

Is it an INFP thing? When someone hurts me or angers me and I'm trying to speak it's a lot of ums or long pauses. But hand me a pen or a keyboard and fill me will righteous rage...you cant stop me. If I know anything at all about you then you will receive a paragraph like you are reading right now filled with oddly observational criticism, I will hit upon at least one thing your sensitive about and end it all with a guilt trip so strong only the Catholically trained can weather it well.

I think he was afraid of the letter because he had been receiving the texts but not replying. He responded pretty quickly after that. After days of contradicting actions, trains of thought that burst into flames as it derailed and red string theory memes he finally told me that his decision to take a break, reassure me and then dump me in such an abrupt manner on a workday, twice btw, was because he really hadn't thought about it...

Now this is going to sound strange but I am so glad my exhusband had been abusive because it taught me control. Otherwise I would have hit him. Who does that?! Im 99% sure he wasnt lying because he's a blunt INTJ and he explained his incomprehensible thought process earlier and I've had previous experience with his type of obliviousness. He really didnt mean to hurt me, he doesnt have any social circle to speak of so when planned this whole thing his feedback was a crowd of 1.

But I saved the best for last. He appears to genuinely like me and really doesnt want to lose me. He wants to be friends...and my dumb ass said yes. With a caveat that the second he starts dating I'm out. I dont do lover to friends. I'm possessive and wont share. So as long as he stays single I'll be his friend. I know I'm dumb. I know I'm just going to be hurt by another display of thoughtlessness from him. But except for the week of hell I've been truly happy with him until I got sick. He's a jerk. I deserve better. But did you know, that INFP can be shallow too. I didnt until i met him. He is so pretty (in my eyes, he is definitely not to everyone's taste) and 7 years younger and he picked me 2.5 years ago. I am not pretty. Hard marriage, lifetime of depression, rather read another chapter than apply a layer of makeup, etc. but he eavesdrop me talking to my work friend and liked what he heard and asked me out.

God I'm dumb. Wow. I'm so sorry. It just happened today and I needed to let it out and when it started I tried another forum to get perspective from similar wired people as my boyfriend so I could do whatever was best for him and some responses were productive and informative if a tad blunt. One or two tried with all their might to be kind and I love them for that. The rest can burn in hell. I know I'm what people consider an "unhealthy" version of my type but I've just been considering myself a survival INFP. I think we all get broken a lot thanks to our inner compass. And when we build ourselves back up again our structure gains or loses new aspects. My corners are sharper, and someone broke my glasses so things arent clear all the time and when my belief in human goodness broke off I wasnt able to find all the pieces but it's still there. I'm still here. And now I will shut up. Sorry again. Still gonna post it though! :p

#breakup #infp thoughts #infp #vent post

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bibliophilejen · 4 months

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Tw: major injury and medical procedures

Facebook is a hellscape I tend to avoid, but I do look at the memories of previous posts - (admittedly in part to edit out some of the terrible takes I had). Holy shit, I got hit with a cinder block this time. Everything in this period is so fuzzy and nebulous, but there are moments that hit with immense clarity.

This was thirteen years ago today, when I had a fantastically silly night out with some folks I worked with at the airport. I was 29 and while life wasn't easy, it wasn't bad.

Less than two weeks later, the Duke ICU would be as familiar to me as TSA.

I remember my mother texting me over the course of the afternoon, into the evening, trying to make things sound normal, but they weren't normal at all. My family didn't go to the doctor unless you were dying.

<Dad's leg is hurting so we're going to the urgent care.>

Then she called. When they got to the ER Dad was immediately admitted and taken to surgery. The urgent care had called ahead to warn them he was on the way so they could prep. By this point it was seven and I would be off work by 7:30, so Mom told me to finish my workday, then come.

I tried so hard to drive deliberately but carefully to get there, but on the way out of the airport one of the cops I see every day pulled me over to write a ticket for going 46 in a 35. Guy I saw every day inside the airport, knew his name, knew his kid's names, and he took 20 minutes while my dad was in emergency surgery to write me a ticket. I would have taken one for 70 in a 35 if he would have just done it faster.

I got there eventually, and my mom and I were both tense with red-rimmed eyes, but we're not cryers. We're doers. When things are hard we make plans and accomplish them, but there was nothing to do but wait.

My Aunt Kate is a nurse and flew in the next day to stay until dad got out of the ICU. I believe she was a huge help, especially since the medical interventions were most intense that week, but I honestly don't remember much. She made sure Mom and I slept and ate, because otherwise we would have sat there waiting for news, waiting for Dad to wake up, waiting for anything we could accomplish to feel like we weren't failing at everything.

Dad spent at least the next week in the ICU, having two surgeries a day interspersed with other treatments. If we had lived almost anywhere else in the country he would have died 2/16/11. If they had decided to go from the urgent care to UNC's ER instead of Duke, he would have likely lost his leg and maybe his life.

This became my life, with occasional outings to distract myself. Work, hospital, home, on repeat. Days off were entirely at the hospital so my mom could get some rest. We didn't leave him alone for more than 4 hours the entire time he stayed at Duke.

Here's his birthday. He'd been in the hospital two weeks at this point, was released from the ICU a few days prior, and had had around 20 debridement and reconstructive surgeries in that time, with more to come. He just turned 55.

He would spend the next month or so at Duke, and another three months in a rehab facility learning how to walk again. Mom had to teach the nurses there how to perform the dressing change on his leg, where he still had an open wound several inches deep and the size of both my hands (with another square foot or so covered in skin grafts). The nurses there were used to helping stroke patients and the elderly, not severe burn wound care (the closest correlation most medical professionals will see).

When they sent him home in July? August? he still had an open wound on his leg where Mom did a dressing change every day. And by this point? This was normal. I had moved back home shortly before he did, so I could be there to help out.

I don't know where I was going with this. I saw that first picture and this entire horrible, hard year snapped into my head and wouldn't let go until I spilled it out somewhere.

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