“It’s better if I do it myself.” 

“It’s fine; I’d rather do it alone.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“I can do this with or without you.”

I realized this morning that being too independent comes with its own term called, “hyper-independence” and trust me it’s not the greatest trait to have. It’s toxic as fuck and it’s actually a fucking trauma response. I’m sitting here drinking my coffee stunned that for years I was so proud of how independent I’ve become that I didn’t need anyone’s help when in reality its a response to severe trust issues and it’s nothing to be fucking proud of. 

At first I refused to admit I had trust issues. I mean for fucks sake I trust my partner of course. I trust them to not cheat on me, to treat me with respect and to make my coffee just the way I like it. I don’t trust them to stay with me at my ugliest moments when I’m crippled in bed from depression, to call me when I need them because the grief is unbearable and I can’t function, to build a life together, to support me at my worst moments.

Everyone loves to stand next to me at my best; no one wants to associate with me when I’m being fucking human. I’ve never had a supportive partner before. I’ve never had someone truly love me the way I deserve to be loved and it shows.

But when it comes to romantic partners, I get scared to stay over their house too often, give them any level of responsibility, or even look at places together. Whenever a partner suggests living together I do everything I can to shut the idea down. I don’t feel comfortable sleeping over for a period of time because in my mind, thats not my fucking home and we do not live together. I get nervous letting my guard down that I smile through my teeth when all I want to do is turn around and run. Because I’ll lay in bed all night knowing they can wake up at any fucking moment and leave me. I get too scared to be honest with my feelings because I hate the feeling of having anyone see me so vulnerable and exposed. I don’t like being naked, I’d rather cover myself up.

I lie to myself all the time; how I love being single, how I have too much going on, I don’t have time, I’m a single mom, I’m mentally ill, or my work schedule is too crazy. I’m so quick to dehumanize people so I keep them at arms length. I keep them at a distance to emotionally protect myself. I act like I open up, but in reality I’m only keeping myself shallow. I’m too scared to go in the deep end because I’m scared I’ll drown even though I know how to swim.

It is scary and instead of communicating that, I’ll remind people that I don’t need him or anyone for that matter, I don’t rely on anyone for help, I can do my life with or without you because I’m so accustomed to being let down, abandoned, and disappointed, I refuse to be vulnerable with another person in the high likelihood they damage me again. I’m so fucking tired of hearing people tell me, “We’re a team” or “I’ll never leave you”, “You’re worth the effort, or the worst one “I love you” just to fucking abandon you when the goings get tough.

You’ll end up by yourself to pick up the shattered pieces alone, cutting your hands open and bleeding everywhere; it’s a fucking mess and you’re left to clean it up because no one wants stay over and help. They’d rather mess everything up and leave because it’s not their home, so why bother? Thats when it gets pathetic; you realize at the end of the day the only person you can rely on is yourself. People love to tell you how great you are until they realize you require a lot of work and no one wants to make a fucking effort. Anything more than the bare minimum is too much for them to handle. 

I’m constantly in survival mode and I lose a lot of sleep over my own thoughts. I can’t relax, I suffer from a continuous anxiety attack from the moment I wake up to the moment I fall asleep. I get nauseous, my stomachs in knots, I’m vomiting, crippled in bed, I can’t sleep, I’m shaking with tremors, and my minds creating a fucking black hole I can’t escape from. I cry myself to sleep all the fucking time, creating a nightmare in my own fucking brain. My mind is prison and I’m sitting on death row.

I shut myself off from those who love me because I’m not sure if I’ll be able to handle another fucking disappointment. I’m so used to being let down I don’t even know how to handle a real human being.