It’d be fair to say that like many people I’m prone to overthinking.
Scouring all the angles and outcomes, considering each carefully and yet the most logical one often causes the most trouble because unlike me most people are ruled by their emotions instead of their mind.
Stemming from some deep and repressed childhood trauma, probably.
This path of thinking leaves me looking over one shoulder all the time because of getting knifed in the back all too often.
Although usually that is of my own doing, the classic self-fulfilling prophecy.
It’d just be nice to once not have to have that consideration, yet given who we all are and the fact we’re all just mere humans that will satisfy our own needs first it’ll not be going away anytime soon.
Of course this is simply a deep reflection of my innermost-self.
It’s why we are disgusted by certain things more than others, ugly refections of who we really are when things get nasty or desperate.
Never being afraid to fight my way out of a shit situation and take people down with me has been a natural response for as long as I can remember, perhaps from being used in that way when I was a kid, although those memories became locked away and no matter how I try to draw them up they’re nothing other than noiseless void.
Funny how deep down were all still just frightened children… or rather I am.
It’s why burning everything down around me is a repeated pattern.
Staring again, and again, and again.
Its become so regular now it’s habit, a bad habit yet one that is also comforting as well, like being addicted to heroin or something we shouldn’t be, I’m addicted to trauma.
I need it to feel anything and with each hit the effects get weaker and weaker.
As such the edge gets pushed more and more, eventually there will be nothing left, nothing at all and I get the feeling that even in that situation there will still be that unifiable hole, that thirst unquenchable.
It’s why I’ve wished, even attempted to silence everything a few times now.
To be able to sit down and speak with this inner child crying out for something it can’t voice, if only I could do that. Unlock those things that remain tightly bound, perhaps they’d give me the answers I seek, or perhaps the ones I already know yet won’t allow myself to know.
Anyway, until that time I will move forwards always looking over my shoulder for something I don’t know to watch out for.