Being vulnerable scares me, a lot. The mere idea of it makes me recoil in fear. To be completely open and honest about yourself means that you are susceptible to rejection and pity and disbelief.
I started to actually use this site as a way for me to learn to be okay with vulnerability. Learn to be okay with the idea of baring it all and providing an insight into the raw, unfiltered reality that is life and mental illness and honestly, everything in between.
Is it doing what I wanted it to? No.
Is it doing anything? Yes, but I don’t know if I like it.
I have come to many realizations about myself in the past year. While I have always been pretty self-reflective and introspective, I have made more breakthroughs within the past year than ever before. I think in part it’s due to the prolonged time alone that has allowed me to strip away each layer of social interaction that has coated me for years, but also due to the fact that I’ve been writing more. Not just writing but writing freely and openly. It has made me come to terms with things about myself that I never knew and learn more about what I want out of life. Which I suppose is a good thing, until you realize that it makes me want to recoil more at the idea of vulnerability.
I know myself more and in knowing myself more, I want to hide it all from the world. I don’t want anyone else to get to know me at this level. I don’t want someone else to be able to see who I am at my core. For so long I wanted someone to just listen to me and understand what I was feeling but I don’t know if I even want that anymore. I don’t think I’m a good person or at least a stable person, or I don’t even know. Even at this moment, I’m spiraling in my own head.
I don’t think I am a healthy person for someone else to get to know.
I think that I am someone who others are better off knowing as the watered-down version of themselves. I’m scared that the real me is too much for others to understand with no pay off in the end.