The other day I posted about my isolation, and how I was ashamed of my physical and mental health challenges. I gave that shame as my reason why I had isolated myself off from the world. The thing is that was a very shallow reflection. I spent a great deal more time after thinking about what caused that shame and asking why I felt it.
I ultimately came up with one word…
TRUST
…or a lack thereof.
But this is a lack of trust that wasn’t just one way you see. This perceived distrust went (and still goes) both ways. I lacked trust in people, and I felt, and still sometimes feel, they lacked trust in me due to my pronounced disabilities.
But why would I have a lack of trust in others, or they have a lack of trust in me?
This was something that I pondered, Googled, read about in some of my leadership and organization management books, and thought about some more. Past experiences, feelings of vulnerability, political, social, and cultural differences, along with different personality traits, and a lack of communication are what I came up with that all the sources had in common.
Ever had a person tell you they will do something with you, but back out because they do not feel well? I am sure we all have. But what about someone who has done it regularly? Yeah, that is me. I think my son finally got tired of just asking. His past experiences with me have taught him that it is likely I will back out if I tell him I will do something because of my physical problems. He no longer trusts my commitment.
On the other hand, my experience with others tells me that some, not all, see me as less of a person I once was, or at least the person I should be. I think I shared the experience of the lady who thought I was my wife’s father, or my son’s grandfather. Then there was the man who got impatience waiting on me walking and mumbled under his breath that I should just stay home if I can’t stay up with everyone else.
Showing vulnerability is something I have never been good at. Being a career military man most of my adult life, it is hard. When you have disabilities, your vulnerabilities are obvious, and I just couldn’t abide that. Letting my guard down with others was hard. Speaking to strangers so they could hear my slow speech, or my occasional stutter was very difficult, if not impossible. Walking in public with a cane, gimping around, pausing to catch my breath every few yards, and the possibility of passing out at any moment was exposing my physical weaknesses to people, and it was not something I wanted others to see.
Like I said, I spent a good deal of my adult life in military service. Spending my time with a diverse group of men and women, as well as being deployed around the globe gave me an acceptance of political, social, and cultural differences of others. After leaving the military I seemed to be suddenly surrounded by closed minded people that refused to hear another side of any viewpoint, discussion, or lifestyle. It made me feel like I was going ass first up a cactus with no pants.
The military service left me with a very straight forward and to the point way of talking and dealing with people. I spoke truth to power, spoke what was on my mind, not always in the “politically correct” way. This was very off-putting to many outside the services and resulted in me being isolated from more people that didn’t like this type of personality trait. Add to this I have Post Traumatic Stress and it makes for a sexy soup for another reason I eventually was isolated from others.
This leads me to a lack of open and honest communication. As I stated previously, I had no problem communicating, it was just in my delivery as I was often told. As my delivery was considered “abrasive” by some, they would just avoid communicating with me. Well, communication requires a sender and receiver. When there is no receiver willing to receive, there is no communication.
I am about run out of gas putting this post together, but I plan to reflect on this topic of trust more in future posts.
I would be happy to hear what you have to say and share with me. I need it to help me grow, to get out of this shell, dig out of my hole. To become a better person.
Thanks,
Joe
Image source: Canva.com
