The problem isn’t me. Not really. The problem is the world. The gossips. The bullies. The abusers. The narcissists. The shallow. The cruel. The snobs. The judgmental. The callous. The ignorant. The rude. The contentious. The angry. The passive aggressive. The sadistic. The jealous. The violent.
Is it any wonder I fear humanity? Is it any wonder I fear humiliation, rejection, and being misunderstood?
My experiences have taught me that life is harsh, and that is what I’ve come to expect. Not long ago, my psychiatrist warned me about the danger of “expecting everyone to treat me the way my abusers did”, but how easy is that to accomplish when so many others HAVE turned out to treat me that way? I often feel like a wounded gazelle surrounded by lions. I look for empathy, but instead I find savagery.