Though maelstrom

I wonder about everything in my life, all the time. It’s not anxiety, it’s the result of developed professional paranoia that has long since become worthless. But it is a habit so deeply ingrained I find it hard to shake. At least I’m no longer jumping at shadows or becoming suspicious if a car follows me through too many turns.

However, the leftover pieces are that I exam every interaction, everything said, the way it is said, the body language, what questions aren’t asked that I think should be, which questions are asked, and what isn’t said.

It’s this constant war of second and third guessing, of being uncertain how my words are received, of not knowing where I stand. It is my Achilles heel in any relationship. People don’t react well to someone who needs reassurance in some respects and in others very confident. They wonder which is the real personality and, for the most part, can’t reconcile that the answer is both.

Even when someone is OK with it, my brain likes to self sabotage. It says that if they accept this thing about me then how into me can they be? As if the only way to accept me is to not care deeply enough to care about it. Which is completely mental. Yet it is a feeling I can’t seem to shake, this thought that the only way to accept my flaws is to, in some way, not love me enough to care.

Even worse is the darkest thought, the one that feels like I’m betraying them. That if you love me, what horrors are you hiding, that you could love someone like me.

Someone so flawed and broken. And I feel like if I bring up these feelings that the ones I love will see the truth, that in some way my exposing my insecurities will convince them that, yeah he is messed up, can’t believe I ever liked him.

Its a hard place to live, especially when I spend so much time there.