I feel detached.
There’s no place or person I feel truly at home with – not even myself. Is this due to nature or nurture (or lack thereof)?
I’ve spent most of my life on the move. It started in childhood. My younger brother and I moving from place to place with our mother, enrolling in one new school after another.
We developed wicked senses of humor which helped us appear to “fit in” later in life.
I always make friends on the surface – but never fully open up. I learned by being molested physically and mentally as a child that nobody I encountered could be trusted. Ever.
That part of me is broken. I do not know if it can be fixed.
It doesn’t mean I don’t have people who say they love me. I am grateful to them and I love them from a safe distance. My love for my children comes easy to me.
I have people I call family who have proven over time they aren’t out to hurt me. They always have my back.
My romantic life is a mess. Enough said.
“Happiness comes from within,” I’ve heard people say. How deep do I have to look?
I’m see my therapist/psychologist and psychiatrist regularly and I’m taking medication.There’s not enough time in a talk session to vent it all out.
My barriers keep me from truly feeling involved — It takes away my joy.
I will keep blogging. Tell me if any of you feel this way. Maybe it will help me or somebody else.