Here it comes again, the self-loathing. If this makes me retch, I don’t even want to know what it makes others’ feel. It’s a disgusting scream looking for a way out.
Today, the kindest person I have ever known and with the most patience told me he was putting distance between us once and for all. Finally, my fear-centric behavior was too much as well for him to bear. He tried to help for two years, helping through two crisis periods (where a good deal of my understanding of the world crumbled). Nice piece of work from my side to push him away, too.
I find no one to openly talk to about all these unhealthy feelings. Of course, knowing that I will not pollute someone else’s health is comforting. Talking does not help as it seems I don’t want to be helped, or act to change. I feel I can no longer pursue any objective. The fear of further failures and errors is overwhelming.
And so the paralysis takes over and feeds all this process. So I evade, but we all know that’s not they way to face it and even though it’s OK for a while, it always comes back and it’s worse. I push myself to get out, but sometimes I just want to secluded and that’s worse too. I sabotage myself and it’s probably the thing I am best at.
I wonder how much I will be able to cope with this. I must take a step but I’m afraid of any change and, at the same time, I am afraid of staying the same. Everything around (my view of the world) seem to crumble faster if I move, but it is also inevitable when I stay still.
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This is kind of how I felt after I was raped. I could no longer walk (which I used to walk 7-10 miles a day) I could no longer read (which usually I would do while I walked) and I could no longer write. I don’t know why or who rape me but very selfish reasons of course.