I often find myself wondering, worrying about the connection I have with people, or rather the lack thereof. It is a continuous maelstrom of doubts and insecurity. Do people know me, would they want to know me if they knew, or is all this thought just another vein attempt of me trying to overcompensate for the things I cannot bear to shake off? Does this mean I do not have to fear anything as there is nothing to lose, or is there something to lose and I am just not aware of it, due to not granting myself the option of having something like this. Quite honestly, I have no idea. I do care about and for people, just when I come into the equation I tend to diminish the value of my input and connection to others.

It is almost as if I just want to take their pain away and hide with that, away from them. Sharing my doubts and tormenting self reflections is still so very new for me and I am still not entirely convinced it is the best way forward, even when I notice myself getting less tensed up and more relaxed in communication with others, be it through the written medium, chats or even when we talk face to face. I am beginning to see that through the cracks in my mask I show people glimpses of me and I see them responding kindly towards it. This is all so very new to me as well.

Now during therapy I have experienced this already, but in my mind that was a special situation, I never really expected to have that outside of the group. The flip side to this is, however, that once I feel I have made a connection and we no longer have the situation in which we share space, or time together like we did previously, I tend to think it is my fault we no longer talk, I am not important enough to keep in touch with. This then results in me punishing myself relentlessly each time I wonder what they might be up to. Would they miss me if I was truly gone?

I know that this blog post already contradicts itself and it infuriates me, clearly this is a multi faceted issue I am trying to deal with; and not all at the same time, as I simply do not have a wide enough view on what I do, why I do it (or do not) and what the effects are on the recipients. So what is my primary concern here at this time? I think it is not knowing whether or not I made a connection that would be worth missing if it was gone, if I were gone. This is a question I have struggled with for a long time, in between my attempts at ending it all and trying to love and live with someone. I just want myself to be perfect, for myself, for others, making the world a better place at the expense of me and my sanity. I find flaws in myself as easily as I find good qualities in others.

‘Would it hurt so much, to see the world through different eyes?’

Quite frankly for me that answer I do not know, as I failed to even attempt to do so on many an occasion. Maybe I have given up on myself, maybe I have not yet found the spark I need to light my path once more. Either way I am still stuck in the dark, still unable to sleep and mulling over possible horrendous situation in which I have been the instigator. Whether this is a reality or not seems to not make much of a difference. I think of myself as a lesser being to others, a burden, a tool to be used and discarded when it’s usefulness has worn off. Are you friends with the scissors that cut paper, are you attached to the paper-clip that binds some files together. I am an object, not a person. And does an object have a connection, would this object be missed?

It seems I still have quite a ways to go to change this perception of myself, to understand that I too am a person with feelings, instead of trying to hide them. Instead of trying to convince myself of not being worth even the salt of the earth. I have a heartbeat, but I do not feel alive, not truly. Not to the extent I want to feel it and does that mean I have to accept the pain the lack of keeping in touch from others  is causing me? Is it important to have this pain and remember the time we did have a connection with a smile or lament my loss and use that to fuel my growing unease about not being of any value to anyone.

I think the question should not be, would you miss me, but rather would I miss myself? At this time I cannot answer either way. This in itself is already a step forward from how I would have replied to this some 2 years ago.

I do know for a fact that I fear being alone for the rest of my life, losing touch with me, my family and everyone who dares call themselves my friends.


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