Gingerbread

What a beautiful day (weather wise) and yet I am bound to my bedroom because my daughter's father decided to show his face. If I could bitch slap that man, I would.

Ok, so I wanted to talk about isolation and withdrawing from people. Deep breath. The borderline cannot hold a healthy and stable relationship with anyone due to their own insecurities and their unstable sense of self (that whole sense of self business keeps cropping up a lot lately).

Now, throughout my life I have always been a loner - never friendless - but a loner, preferring my own company to that of others. I always thought it was because I was anti-people and that everything about them just wound me up. I'd said that though I have a lot of acquaintances, there were only a handful of people that were actually close to me and then not even really that. The 'anti-people' attitude stemmed from the idea that everyone just ended up hurting me and it was safer to be on my own; they were all cunts. Somehow, somewhere, no matter what I was doing, there was always drama in my face - drama seemed to find me everywhere. I could be minding my own damn business and it would still come and fly kick me in my face. But it is me that finds the drama in everything... It doesn't hunt me down at all. I create it myself.

Haha, and all these years I thought something was out to get me: "Why can't I just live a peaceful life? It's always one thing after the fucking other". I take a 'normal' situation and blow it a million times out of proportion with my negative thinking, feelings and behaviour. My mind is distorted in the way it handles things, pretty much everything actually, so it tends to turn situations into something that they really aren't. I always wondered why I was forever stressed out over everything. The thing is, I never knew that I was doing it until recently. I'm aware now and though it doesn't automatically change my retarded way of thinking, it is the first step to success...

Back to my original point - I do tend to ramble off on a side note, my mind can't stay in one place... Though protecting myself from any hurt is part of my withdrawal from people, I realised that it is more to do with being able to trust myself and trying to maintain the tiny bit of self I fooled myself into thinking I have; if I am around people, they disrupt any perception I have of myself and it becomes exhausting and tedious and discouraging and pretty much straps me in for another ride on the emotionally unstable rollercoaster:

"Who am I? Oh, I'm around this person, I must mould into the person I think they want me to be or that I should be. But what am I then? Sure, I have a skill - I'm a chameleon - but who the fuck am I then? Oh this person seems like they're a happy-go-lucky person who just wants to have fun... done! I am now (deceptively) happy-go-lucky and a person who just wants to have fun! Oh but this person hates people, the world and insists they are a recluse... done! I now (deceptively) hate people, the world and a person who insists they are a recluse!"

I think you can see where this is going...

So to save myself from all of the above and the questions they raise about myself, I choose to take people in small doses. I go away, come back. If something has offended me or I have felt unintentionally invalidated, then it will take me longer to come back. Sometimes, I don't know who you want me to be and because I cannot answer that for myself, it's unsettling. So to protect myself, I run (or it literal terms, I just don't really talk to you for a while and if I do, I keep my distance whilst absorbing my own company as I brew on shit that was planted in my head during my very short lived social interactions with you).

So, that is pretty much why I am one big, massive, fucking enormous contradiction. And also why my brain uses the unhealthy coping mechanism to protect itself by detaching from people. Then, of course, there is the opposite of detachment: attachment. Just as I unintentionally detach myself from people, there are the ones that I unintentionally attach myself to. All very subconscious and now brought to the forefront. But that is a really long one that I haven't fully fathomed out yet. Close, but not quite there yet.

To finally wrap up another post that does not seem to make any sense (only to me), I have detachment and attachment issues.

And yet, after all this writing and picking apart my poor brain, her 'father' is still fucking here. Time to throw a shoe at his head. I'm in a funny mood. I'll keep you posted on the events to follow.

The Bernard Bert