It surprises me how many people out there are truly obsessed with what other people think about them.  It is something which irritates the hell out of me at every turn.  Because, really, who cares? 

Obsession with one's self is the most extreme part of this.  Where every thought is devoted to yourself, every breath, whimper, action, non-action is about you.  Even when you think of others it is only to question how they perceive or don't perceive you.  The perception that other people are obsessed with you as much as you are obsessed with you.  The thought that if they aren't, THEY are the ones who are selfish, and not you.   

My mother is the perfect example of this.  She is completely obsessed with herself and how horrible her life is, how horrible her lot in life is.  How horrible her life has affected others, and how others now think of her because of it.  My mother is like a naive child when it comes to the world, where everything revolves around her. 
 
I have dealt with this obsession my whole life.  A bit in myself, but mostly in my mother and in the people I relate to the best.  There is nothing that pisses me off faster than someone talking about how that can't, won't, shouldn't do X because of what other people will think.  My answer for the last nine years has been: Who the heck cares what other people think??   And: Do you really think other people care enough to think so harshly about you on such a grand scale that you should be shamed?  
 
And the answer to those questions is always the same: Nobody should, and quite honestly, nobody really cares that much.  In fact, the less *I* cared what others think, the happier I became with myself.  The happier I became with myself, the less selfish I acted or felt.  
 
And really what helped me accept myself as I am was becoming a geek.  I LOVE being a geek.  There is nothing more fun in life than living with that label.  My hobbies include playing video games, reading obsessively, watching a TON of TV, and playing RPGs.  I am a 30-something woman who gets to play anytime I am not working or doing chores.  Being obsessed with vampires is not just a fad for me, it is a part of who I am.  Ask me anything about Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and I know the answer.  I've read the Twilight saga 17 times in the year and a half I've known about it.  And it isn't the hot actors that get me going.  It is the concept of good vs. evil and how much grey area there really is.  I've read about a dozen other series (not just books, but full on SERIES of books) about vampires.  If I were to write a fiction book, it would have vampires in it.  I love what I do with my free time.  And I do not care if it is dorky, geeky, nerdy.  I don't care what people say or think. And for the most part, when people find out I label myself as a geek or a dork, they treat me like I'm part of the "in" crowd.  And not just because geek is in, but because I exude that kind of self confidence within my geekiness.  I love it.  Accepting my status as dork has brought me more friends than I ever imagined having.  I met my husband playing Shadowrun an RPG set in a world with a LOT of tech.  
 
And I don't feel as if they will hate me if they find out.  I don't actually think much about what other people would think at all. 
 
Ever. 
 
Because, why should I?  I am certain they don't think about me all that much at all.  At worst, they might think "wow, that is weird." and move on.  
 
And I treat my mental illness the same way.  I really do not think much about what other people would think if they were to find out.  Sure, I worry that their opinion will affect my career.  I do not want to give the store director of my store the impression that I am so unstable I would be unable to run my department.  I do not wish to have customers whisper about the manager that is certifiable. I need money for my family, I want to be able to support them. This overrides everything.  And so I eliminate the possibility of hurting my livelihood and keep my challenges to myself.  It is hard. Harder than anything else I do.  But it is necessary.  The stigma attached to mental illness is something everyone who is afflicted either with one of the various illnesses or by a family member with an illness has to contend with.  I contend with it by keeping my facade in place as needed, but living authentically at home.  
 
And because I accept that this is just how it has to be so I can maintain the money I bring into our home, I never really feel isolated or alone. 
 
Except in my mental illness.  I wish I knew more people to kibitz with.  I want to know how other people deal, what works and what doesn't.  I want to know what some people's triggers are, and how to find them.  I want to just sit down and talk to someone who *gets* me.  The authentic me. 
 
And so I blog.  :)