venting

I'm absolutely fucked up. I can easily throw the blame on my parents, but I don't want to.
I just can't have a normal relationship, it's not possible for me.
I guess some people weren't made for that. And I guess I'm one of them.
It's like I'm so paranoid that whenever I feel safe enough to get over my paranoia with someone, I have to punish them and myself by being extremely paranoid afterwards.
So afraid of intimacy that whenever I feel intimate with someone, I punish myself and push them away.
I know it's nobody's fault, and I shouldn't expect people to handle me. That's why I push them away.
But then I'm the bad guy. Someone told me before: You'll always be an asshole in someone's life.
I'm too demanding, and sometimes I play critic. But it's only with people whom I really care about and for.
It's like I don't want to hate them, so I try to make them the person I want them to be; the person I wouldn't hate them for being. But you can't tailor a human. You have to accept them as they are. I'm sorry I couldn't do that.
I think the key to life is acceptance. To accept your life, your reality, your flaws. To accept things you can't change, or handle. To accept the people around you. To accept the things that have been forced upon you.
To accept your fate, the things you can't change.
But I don't wanna do that. I want everything. I want it all.
The thing is, as long as someone doesn't mean much to me, I don't care what happens between us. I don't care about what I say or do; or what they say or do.
But once someone starts mattering to me, I can't help putting them on a pedestal.
For various reasons.
Like I mentioned before.
And something selfish, I'm so narcissistic I can't bear the thought that I might have given someone more value than their actual one.

Metaphor #1:
I had 2 knives that I loved very much. I depended on them for everything.
One day I received a package, with tape all around it. So I used the two knives together to cut the tape and open it.
But no matter how hard I tried, it just didn't work.
Because no matter how much hope and faith I had put into the 2 knives, they weren't scissors. They just weren't.
You can't force something into being something else.

Metaphor #2:
I saw little kids riding their bikes, and at first they were shaky and hesitant, and afraid of falling, so they stuck around and close to their parents.
A little bit later, they got the hang of it, and started riding their bikes for further distances, sometimes far from the sight of their parents whom in turn asked them not to.
But the kids paid no attention and rode further yet. Until at a considerable distance the ground was uneven, so they fell over.
Only then did they run back to their parents.
See you stick around with your parents until you think you don't need them, but then after the slightest mishap you go running back to them. You always need your parents. Appreciate them.



Why is it that all those "every body is beautiful" posts have pictures of fat women? Scars? stretch marks? flabbiness? Why is it never a good-looking, or drop-dead gorgeous woman?
See, you don't need to say it out loud, it's just carved inside your subconscious that the former have something wrong with them. And unless you stop doing that shit, these things will always need comforting and reassurance that they are "normal". You're fucking brainwashed and you think you're fixing people who are. You're just contributing to the stigma.