
The world may be on fire, but for the first time in a long time, I’m not.
This is a common tactic of mine, but it took me a while to realize I was doing it with what is probably the most tragic event of my life so far.
This came to me while I was listening to something someone else was saying in group therapy. An epiphany I didn’t share with the group because it was from my personal pain, not our shared experiences.
My (fairly justified) separation anxiety has given me coping mechanisms that sometimes make me worry that I’m a little too good at letting go of people when I need to.
What if it isn’t that I can put up the walls when I need to, but that I just can’t connect at all?
But apparently Kara believes this line of thinking is nonsense. So I’m probably just being too hard on myself. As usual.