I wish I could blame my inactivity on this blog solely on National Novel Writing Month (which I completed, by the way), but I really can't. The thing is, I just haven't been too keen on filling people in on my personal issues, but now I kind of feel like I should. I need an outlet of some kind and projecting to the faceless masses seems to be the most viable option.
I have come to the unshakeable conclusion that I am completely and totally, maybe even irrationally, terrified of being alone. This is not a new thing, I had this fear as a child as well. You know those machines at the mall? The space ship or the little motorcycle you put a quarter in then sit in it while it shakes like a crappy washing machine? I could never use those as a kid. It would fill me with this vague terror when I sat in them, this fear that when I clambered out my parents would be gone or they would not be there to help me out. I got lost at the mall once, when I was maybe seven. I just froze up and tried not to cry, standing near the entrance of a game store. Finally it was my sister's friend who found me. She told me my mom had sent her to find me while my sister was trying on a dress somewhere else.
That hurt. Sure my mom knew where I was, at least she had a pretty good idea, but she didn't come get me herself. She was too preoccupied with getting my sister some new clothes to take three minutes to get me. I should have kept up, made sure I didn't lose sight of her, but I was a kid. It hurt that I wasn't worth her time to go fetch.
So yes, if it didn't start there, it was at least fueled by that incident. If I didn't make sure I wasn't alone, I would be left behind. I get possesive because of that fear, I refuse to let things go. I have all sorts of hoarded collections, broken things and toys I have long since grown out of. I even go back and read books far, far below my reading level because nothing deserves to be lost and forgotten. It's when my possesiveness extends to people that the problems start.
I keep my friends close and my enemies as far away as physically and emotionally possible. When my friends start mixing in with my enemies, problems start. I like to think I don't do it on purpose, but I am noticing now how I behaved in the past. I would reel them in, pulling them away from a perceived threat. The thing is though, I am not sure who I felt was being threatened, me or them. Am I protective because I don't want to be abandoned or because I don't want to abandon them?
Now, most recently, I have been accused of acting selfishly. Said accusor stated that my defensive tendencies have flared up over a friend mixing up with another friend, that I attempted to pull the friends apart to keep them both safely in my own comfort zone. Problem being they are two sentient people who should be allowed to make their own decisions. So. So so so. Am I subconsciously yanking them apart, subtly setting them up for failure, in some involuntary reflex to protect and isolate what is "mine?" Or is this the delusion of someone looking for someone to blame for a failing relationship? I honestly can't tell, and since it's my subconscious under fire, my heartfelt words mean nothing.
Maybe it is my abandonment issues and terror at the possibility of being left alone, but I refuse to be held solely responsible. If some uncharacteristic machinations so easily tore down a wall of trust between two people, perhaps it wasn't all that strong to begin with. Maybe my subconscious is right, that the two are better off not being one item. All I know for sure is that it isn't fair to tell me to "stop being selfish," or "get over your issues," because if I can't see it happening there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. My instincts are to protect as best I can, be it myself or others, and I can't just magic them away.
There I go again, being defensive. They say you only get defensive when you're at fault, but they also say you only lock things when you have something to hide. Just because I don't want you to walk all over me or delve my deeper secrets does not mean I am guilty of anything. I have a right to privacy and a right to defend myself. So I'll leave this issue, not quite settled, with a final few remarks.
I'm sorry things don't always work out. I'm sorry I can be possesive. I'm sorry I place my own wants and needs over others sometimes. I'm sorry I can't always side with you. I'm sorry you think I never do.
But.
I am not sorry for being me.
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