Recently, I have allowed three siblings to view and read this blog. One older sister, and two older brothers. So far, in no way, do I feel any sort of regret about including them into these parts of my life. My sister was very understanding, emotionally authentic and open, and all around fantastic. My brothers were the same. Several times they've all admitted that they may not entirely understand everything, but that they are willing to accept, and be apart of wherever my life goes. I could not convey to them, at the time, how relieved and loved I felt because of their kind words and honest opinions. They are all wonderful individuals, whom I am proud and honored to call brother and sister. And thankful. Very thankful.
However, even though I do not regret my decision to be open with them, I am still very much afraid, and a tad bit uncomfortable. Not because I don't want to let them in. By all means, I do.
But because I am not used to feeling vulnerable, and wide open towards anyone, anytime, ever. That is something I will need to get used to, and adapt to. I'm used to knowing all the answers, and how these things work, and having all the cards. When you allow others into the mix, it throws all of that into space because other human psyches are so varied and unpredictable.
I didn't anticipate this fear. My natural instinct right now is to stop, rewind, and keep everyone at an emotional distance, just like I've been doing my entire adult life. But experience has taught me how to push through natural instincts, so therefore, I shall do it. I am ready, for the most part, and even if I'm not, this is as good a time as any to become so.
I've psychologically trained myself to fit into public molds in order to throw people off to whats going on inside, to evade questions, and to keep others from thinking or worrying about me. All of which is ironic, because those are some of the things I have wanted dearly. I'm not sure why I do it. Most likely as a defense mechanism thats just never gone away. Its just funny because for the longest time, I thought I was unique in that respect. I did my own thing, I didn't care what others thought, and I never put myself into molds to appease others. What I didn't realize, was that secretly, that in itself was a mold. I wanted people to be impressed by me and my I-don't-care-what-other-people-think attitude. I wanted everyone to think I was so strong and independent when it came to dealing with all the abuse aftermath and hard things in general. I enjoyed those masks; they kept me safe and mysteriously distant. I didn't need anyone, and its becoming obvious that I still need to do some work on convincing myself otherwise as well. I don't think that all of them are fakes though. I think that they're all different parts of me, just greatly amplified into something else/more.
The bottom line is that I'm making progress with myself, and my family. Its just gonna take alot of time and patience from me to get to anywhere normal again.
But, I am content with that for now =]