I’m doing it again. I’m doing it again. I’m doing it again…
I’m pushing people away. People who are close or are getting close to me. Scary, scary. So, fucking scared right now. Scared of them getting close while at the same time scared of pushing them away and losing them.
Testing the limits. THat’s what I’m doing. I always do it. Pushing the limits of me that they can handle. Going to the edges of me or extreme behavior. Testing out friendships/relationships like they are a rubber band. How far can they stretch? When will they break? What its the breaking point for some people. Pushing my boundaries and their buttons because of course they couldn’t love me unconditionally or unbounded. There has to be a limit to it. To everything. An edge. Where is it? No one could possibly love me without end.
Someone figure me out. Someone call me out on my shit. Someone please beat me up harder than I ever could…or so that I no longer will.
Can you feel me spitting in your face? Egging you on? Testing you? Challenging you to fight. Tempting you to hate me…
If I know your limits then I can no where I stand. Plus, let’s be real, then there is a line. A line that I can cross in order to push you away when I fear a hurt coming on. I can hurt you first before you hurt me. I won’t allow you to hurt me. Only myself. Only I can hurt me. And I do a pretty good job of it. But I’m pretty beat up right now. So, if you could just tell me where I stand and call me out on my shit and all the stuff I’m hiding or trying to hide that you really already know and have always known about me, that would be swell. Seriously, put it all out there to me. Make me see. Put it right in front of my face. Don’t let me turn away. Or hide. Or make excuses. Or blame. Or fix it. Make me sit with it. With you. You, me, my shit…my problems. The stuff that is really all my shit but is now affecting you because I never chose to be open and upfront and share it in the first place.
Fuck, I’m going crazy right now. I feel like one of those witch’s cauldrons boiling and bubbling nearly exploding with the mixture of most vile poisonous toxic gruel.
Why am I pushing you away? I love you. I really do. I love all of my friends. I have so much love for them all. But the love for myself doesn’t match. It is majorly lop-sided. I want to love me. I really do. But I don’t know how. Like, I need a class on it or some shit. I am so sorry to all of my friends for all of this. They deal with all of this when they really shouldn’t. It is their choice that I do not understand at all. Don’t. Nope. Not understanding why one chooses to be my friend. Because I burn out. I love you and then don’t love me and burn out and go crazy psycho and then the process starts all over again back at one once I’ve convinced myself that all is ok. But it’s not…really! It never is. It is mediocre at best. Handleable. Doable. Liveable. My comfortable discomfort. I choose to change.
So, I’ve made that choice. But I only know certain ways of living. I like a challenge. I’d love someone to challenge me to change. But that is putting it on another person when it is really my responsibility.
I don’t want to push you away. You are all so close to me. But, fuck, I’m getting scared. So scared. Life & death scared. Scared of me. Me coming out.
I’ve been kicked out of living arrangements twice by friends. Other friends have said that it was wrong of them to kick me out. But, while those word of reassurance feel nice, I know that it was all me kicking myself out by pushing their love and uber-generosity away to such a degree that they could no longer take it…even if consciously they could not say that was the reason. I know 100% that it was. Me not being able to accept love from someone else.
Fuck, I hate that. That leaves me really depressed. Because does that mean that I cannot ever accept love? Yikes! Am I hopeless? A lost cause? What am I? What the fuck am I?!
You know I’m a completely different person behind closed doors, right? LIke, you must know that. I am. I am a COMPLETELY different person. WHat you see is not who is writing this right now. Not at all. This person is very destructive. And mean and hateful and oh sooooooo very angry. Not always a good person. Selfish. Self-destructive…very much so. Not always loving. Scared. Debilitatingly so. Desperate. VERY sensitive! Afraid.
It’s all going to happen again. It does. And I hate that it will. I hate that I know I’m going to go through all of this all over again. And I hate that I am going to push some people away. ANd I hate that I don’t know how to stop.
And I hate this nervous, sick, painful feeling I have in my stomach because of it. And I hate how much it hurts trying to cover all of this up. ANd I hate the fake smile I have. And I hate the way my skin feels right now. And I hate that no one “gets” me. ANd I hate that no one tries. And, ironically, I hate that I don’t love myself…whoa, that’s a mind-fuck!
And I hate how tired all of this trying is making me…I hate the trying. But I just want to cross that bridge from trying into doing and don’t fucking know how! And so fucking want to! Please! I’m so exhausted over hear! LIke, ENOUGH!