Different People, Different Degrees of Dysfunction

I'm an early bird. Always have been. I wake up early and most of my important and/or powerful thoughts occur during the early morning hours.

At night, I'm basically a limp noodle. LOL

So if you follow my blog at all, you'll always see that I will say, "I woke up this morning thinking ...." Sorry, Nigh Owls. LOL

Anywho ...

I woke up this morning thinking that different people have different degrees of dysfunction. Like, I am a firm believer that everyone has some sort of issue/dysfunction. No one is perfect.

I would never endeavor to say that it's a "weak person versus strong person" thing either. That's just asinine.

But I am going to rewind a little bit because I can already sense that I am getting ahead of myself. I am pretty sure a little bit more elaboration, if you will, is needed.

These past few days I've been talking a lot about my abandonment issues.

I've come to the very important understanding that I have them, I need to address them, I have to be honest to myself about how they started, and what it's been like for me.

In my observation there are several types of people with abandonment issues—they all manifest differently depending on the person.

1) There are those who hold on tighter to people who don't care about them simply because they don't want to be abandoned again.

2) There are those who become so insecure and convinced that they are going to be abandoned that they become obsessed with those who are close to them, to the point of an irrevocable compulsion of stalk the other person's every move.

3) There are those who let go too soon—at the inkling of feelings being involved, they jump ship. They are too scare of losing again that they rather never take the risk.

4) Then, there are those like me. Those who push away when they sense they are losing, but are devoured profusely by loneliness and fear, and the sense of perpetual abandonment.

When I love, I love hard. I mean, hard.

The love I give is blind, unconditional, without measure, and inexhaustible. It is the type of love that is loud, proud, at times unconventional, but mostly superlative.

It is the knowledge of that which keeps me at arms length from any individual whom I may sense will not reciprocate that love. Furthermore, there is the perennial feeling that at any given moment, for some miniscule and unfounded reason, said individual is going to leave me.

Them abandoning me, leaves me with an avalanche of aftermath to deal with which they could never comprehend.

Thus, I rather hold back. Not give that love—which I want so badly to unwarp and gift away—and save myself all of the heartache that may come.

The "what ifs", the "plausible or possible endings", the "numerous scenarios" and the "I don't know what can happens" are my bane. They are the chains that bind me to a life of unwilling servitude to loneliness because I refuse to be abandoned again.

I've learned that ...

Loneliness is its own prison.

Fear, of any kind, is its own purgatory.

Overthinking, its own hell.

I understand that ...

Heartache can be overcome, but one must measure one's own strength to know they can.

My desire is ...

To reach my personal Nirvana, and get out of this ongoing purgatory.