Fear has been the defining experience of my life. Mostly fear of other people. Of what they’ll think of me. Because if they judge me negatively, who knows what they’ll do…
Maybe they’ll hit me, kick me, spit on me. Less likely, now I’m old. Maybe they’ll insult me. And I’ll take it to heart, because I hate myself. Maybe they’ll isolate, avoid, or reject me. And I’ll feel despair, because I know I’m not worthy of love or friendship.
I fear being seen, being accurately perceived. Because there’s such rottenness in me now. No one could see what goes through my head and not feel disgust.
I long not to feel alone anymore. For intimacy. To be seen. To be known. To be accepted. But I know that’s not possible now.
This is a rare form of psychological torture I’ve developed for myself. I chose it, without ever really being conscious that I was making that choice. I internalized others’ dislike of me, allowed my inner critic to inhibit my personality. Which in turn brought greater dislike from others. Which led to deep resentment within me, and a twisting of my personality. I became bitter, and I pushed that bitterness down until it consumed the deepest parts of me.
I chose this, because I didn’t know how to deal with the dislike of others, I felt threatened, and I reached for the only thing I could think of. I didn’t know how to deal with the insults, the taunts, the attacks, the threats. So I hid.
And it ruined my life. I ruined my life, for nothing. And now I’m stuck, wishing I could go back and do things differently. Unable to ever open up to anyone or really be “myself”, because now who I’ve become is too horrific for anyone to accept. And I’m going to spend whatever remains of my life alone and consumed by regret and longing. I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I don’t want to be this person anymore. But I’ve trapped myself within it.