It’s just the way I was brought up, some things our parents teach us when we’re kids we choose to keep, other’s we gladly discard when we leave the nest.
Communism was one of the ideals I kept.
I don’t want to talk about politics right now, I simply don’t have the energy to explain why I disagree with most democratic and republican ideals.
I guess I am trying to understand why I haven’t entirely put my guard down. I am not allowing myself to be completely vulnerable. Perhaps there was too much damage done too soon. Maybe it’s me. It is most definitely me. It is almost impossible to distinguish real and valid feelings from those distorted thoughts fueled by a combination of Borderline Personality Disorder, body image issues, and manic depression. I mean take drugs out of the equation and you’re left with unmedicated and damaged goods. Is one better than the other? I am starting to think not.
I have a damn good intuition. Usually the knot in my stomach which emerges from nowhere and keeps me up at night when my life is as balanced as it gets tells me I am lying to myself. It warns me to be cautious and protect my heart. That knot is back and has stuck around for weeks now.
Either way, my dear. I get this feeling we’ve both met our match. Welcome to me.