Starving in A Childhood Lost

for connection.

That was my entire childhood.

I think back on all those awkward moments. You know. The ones that come back and haunt you at night when you’re trying desperately to just turn off your brain and just relax and Go To Effing Sleep. Why do I need to relive every painful memory when I really really want to sleep?!
But, I do end up getting sucked in. I finally succumb to the painful horror of reliving that moment- every moment- that leaves me with this empty feeling inside and the everlasting question; why? Why in the name of god did I do that???

And this morning, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m tired and my eyes are grainy from lack of sleep. I was wakefully dreaming of weird, awkward situations all night. I relived seemingly every moment that I ruined with my desperate social idiocy.
I thought, what lead up to this? What instigated these ultimately very painful outcomes? Why was I so weird? Why did I invite some of the most damaging moments of my life?
Because they were damaging. They were painful and they led to rejection by people that should have been- or could have been- a real and wholesome part of my life. People that were open, honest, and offered connection.
And, that was when it clicked. In every instance, someone offered me a small taste- just a little flavor of what it was like to experience connection. And that was their virtue, you see. Their virtue was to trust and be curious and open to me- a stranger- who seemed down and lost and in need. They sent out their kindness as a sort of bridge, offering safe passage if I wanted it.
And, what did I do?

Well, I freaked out. what is this?! I questioned, I stalled, I balked, or I overreacted and became at once a child with a fascinating new discovery; clingy and angry.
And, why wouldn’t I? It was, genuinely, a novel experience for me. My maturity level regarding connection was infantile.
And I drove them all away.
With my toddler like tantrums, outbursts, and weird inappropriate attempts at exploration, I drove them all away.
Because. Well, because they do not want to parent me. Why would they? It’s not their job. They’ve got their own lives to worry about. I was just some sad nobody with a lot more problems to fix than they had patience for. It’s not their job. They were kind enough to give me a bridge- a rope - to cross if I wished. But I had no idea how. I couldn’t comprehend what they were doing, let alone how to respond. I had no idea what my own emotions meant.

And, I did blame myself. Endlessly.
I hated myself.
I hated my social ineptitude. I chose to defend it rather than to confront it. And that’s my fault.