Battle of the Dragon (Rhinoceros Mix) in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

Yesterday an incident happened which caused a sharp crack in my somewhat fragile mental health recovery. I mean, I didn’t sleep all night because I was crying in terror, afraid to fall asleep. It put a clear focus on a lot of different things and helped me realize what the larger issue is… it made me realize exactly why the incident that happened with Richard almost a year ago broke me like it did. And it’s such a common thing that I’m actually incredibly embarrassed by it.

I have an intense fear of abandonment.

I’m sure anyone who has read me for any significant amount of time is saying to themselves, “Duh, Justin” but it didn’t really hit me until last night. Fernando did something that was thoughtless, but it brought all of these feelings and fears in me that exploded in chaos.

I really hate this revelations because I have fought so hard for so long against these kinds of realizations, insisting to anyone that they did not affect me, but I have a long history of being abandoned by men. My father left when he found out my mother was pregnant, and although I never really held a conscious grudge against him, I see now that in hindsight that has significantly shaped me in some frightening ways. Joe left me for New York. If I had insisted that he stay, if I had fought, he might still be alive. We likely wouldn’t be together, but he left me behind.

Friends have abandoned me…

That is my expectation. That is why I am cut-off.

But the abandonment fear is only half the equation because what is the other side of that question. Why do men abandon me? What is it about me that doesn’t inspire men to stay? And THAT’S the question I’ve avoided for so long, because I know it’s poppycock, but deep-down I’m afraid that that question is unavoidable.

We all have some thing, some fear, something so deep we don’t know it’s there until we start trying to focus on ourselves, focus our thoughts on why some things hurt us more than other people. Why are some things so much harder for me than they are for other people?

It’s like trying to fight a dragon. It’s impossible because the battle doesn’t seem real in the first place, but once you accept that it is real, it seems like insurmountable odds. The funny thing is, I’m starting to realize that other people already know this about me, and that makes them not want to be around me, so it’s a self-perpetuating cycle.

I don’t know what this means other than it’s there, it’s real, and it’s ruling my life. And that shouldn’t happen.