afraid of the happy and good

I’m pretty sure I’m sometimes standing in my own way; sabotaging my own happiness because I’m afraid of it. When I was a kid, and actually even as an adult, I learned to fear the happy moments because they went by so quickly. Mom got a promotion. Boom, she was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer not too long after that. There are so many examples of this spread throughout my formative years that I’m pretty sure it’s the reason why I believe I don’t deserve to be happy and have it all. Because you never get it all. There will always be something to kick you in the stomach when you least expect it.

I’m afraid the good and happy has to balance out so with high highs come low lows and I’m just not interested in hitting those low lows again. So when I’m saying I don’t deserve to be happy I mean that I’m afraid of what comes after. I’ll always be. It was conditioned into me.

I can’t help but wonder though, if it’s all just a figment of my head. If there actually is a correlation. You see, I’m a math and science person. I do believe everything serves a purpose and that Chaos Theory exists which means even chaos isn’t actual chaos.

I always try to not be a burden to anyone because I’m afraid they would like me less if I’m being difficult. It takes a while for me to be me around new people because I’m always afraid they can’t handle me. That I am too much, too loud, too obnoxious. One of my biggest fears, despite the low lows, is not being destined to be loved. That I don’t deserve it because (a) I’m not a good enough person and (b) because I don’t get to have it all.

It’s always been like, you get the thing you want but you have to give up something valuable instead.

So when I think of her, I remind myself of all the things about me that aren’t good and make me out of her league. It’s absolutely ridiculous. Don’t think I’m not aware because I am. This circle is still nothing I can shake. It’s like I’m always way too conscious of who and what I am. I can’t just go for it because what if I wreck things on more than one level? What if they make fun of me?

Sometimes I close myself off on purpose because if I don’t, I’m afraid everything would come spilling out of me like the way water expends when it gets warm. (To be accurate, it also does so when it gets cold but that’s not the point.) I can’t be real with most people because they surely couldn’t like me if they knew all about me. I’m so fragmented sometimes that all the superglue couldn’t hold it together.

Believe me, I’ve been trying to revert this line of thinking. I told myself that “I’m good enough” so that I would fall asleep on a positive thought but it never sticks. Nobody truly knows how damaged I am on the inside, not even bestfriendboy because nobody knows all my stories, all my secrets and shame. I spread those out across multiple people afraid one person couldn’t take it all. Except me. Because I have to.

I’m looking for a saviour. Sometimes. And that’s not what it’s supposed to be. I have to save myself, I guess that’s what all the “love yourself” stuff is about. I just don’t know how to do that yet.

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