The wounded one

I wanted to write about me. Not just.. what I do every day and what's in my head.
I mean.. ME. Who I am and why.
Dig a little deeper, ya know?
Most of my friends know I haven't had what you would call.. "an easy life".
To be perfectly honest.. My life has been anything BUT easy.
The only logical explanation to me still being alive, would be my friends.
I get attached to people really easily. When I see and find something good in someone, i full heartedly take to that person. Some more than others.
In some way I think I am unconsciously trying to find substitutes for an non existing family that I've never had.

I don't trust boys. I can't. The lack of a father figure plays a big part in that I think.
And my grandfather left my grandmother for a younger woman when I was 11.
I've really only opened my heart for two guys. Ever.
One who's not in my life anymore and the other one.. well.. He's slipping away and I'm not handling it well.. I wish I knew how to save the friendship I have.. Had, with him.. But I don't know how to.
And I don't handle rejection very well, so asking him the "How" and "Why" is not a option.
I am to scared of hearing the "I want nothing to do with you".
He is my rock.. My constant reminder of that there are good guys out there and that kindness, can be completely unselfish.
Cause that, he is. Unselfish and kind. Beyond any words I can ever come up with.
I adore him and the friendship that he has showed me.

I push people away and I self sabotage myself.
I don't mean to. But it is in some sick way, me trying to protect myself.
Protect myself from abandonment.
Abandonment.. The one thing that scares me to the very core of my being.
To be left alone.
To have someone whom you've opened up to, trusted and given your heart to.. Leave you.
The pain of having someone you care so deeply abouy, walk out of your life and leave you alone.
Yet.. Those are the people I push away.. The people whom are the closest to me.
      - Do I really believe that It hurts less if I "make" them leave, rather to have them leave me? 
Am I really that damaged? 

There are so many like me out there.
We, the wounded ones. The Adult Children. ACA. 
I wish I was normal.. That I could function and think like the rest of the population.
But I can't.
My scars are deep. They are mine and mine to live with.
Mine to protect and to heal.
Mine to show to those whom I trust will not be scared off by them.
My scars are not on the outside. Not for people to see and to think for themselves..
- "hey.. she's really hurt, wonder what she's been through".
My scars are only visible to those who choose to see them.
For those with enough patience to see through my smile and the wall that protects me.


- I wish I was normal.


www.adultchildren.org 

http://coda.org