'intimacy issues'
According to my dad, I have intimacy issues. At least that's what he's screamed at me or said under his breath whenever I don't want to sit close to everyone or hug him every time he wants to hug me.
I don't think I've always had issues with it, when I was still with my ex, I wasn't opposed to being near her. I enjoyed hugging and cuddling and kissing and what not. And when people came to the house, I always greeted everyone with a hug, I think I was just happier before.
While doing some soul searching a while back, I asked a close friend how I've changed since before the break up, and he mentioned that I don't hug anyone or greet everyone in a general cheery mood when they walk in the door. I don't know if it's that I don't like those people anymore because I feel betrayed by them, or if it's that I don't like to be touched.
The general dislike of all of them is a good possibility; I can't forgive them and I have no real yearning to see them or have them in my life. The only reason I see them is because my older brother still calls them his "friends" and invites them to any major holiday party or event at my house. He doesn't talk to them on a day to day, or even week to week basis, but he knows who they are and he doesn't go out much so he doesn't really talk to his friends constantly either which I guess makes them as close to him as his friends are. Still, it's awkward to not want to be in your own house because people you hate and talk about you are coming over, but if you leave, they all go into your room and go through your stuff while they talk about you (yes, I have come home to them all hanging out in my room, because while we were all friends that's where everyone would hang out).
Still, looking back, I only really stopped hugging people in general when I started cutting and hitting. Partially because a hug would hurt my ribs, and partially because I didn't want anyone to touch me, I felt isolated, alone. I had that secret that they didn't know and wouldn't understand, and if they knew they would talk about it behind my back just like they talk about every other part of my life while I'm not around. And it wouldn't be a concerned "oh, I want him to get help because I really care about him," it would be "oh, he's just doing it for attention." If it was for attention, I wouldn't go to such great lengths to keep it all hidden.
The first week I cut, I looked down at my bloody, scabbed lines and I knew from that day on, it would be next to impossible for me to be close to another human being, because I could never let them see that side of me. No one from my past is close enough now for me to talk to them and have them understand. No one that I bring into my life will know me well enough to want to put up with my problems. I feel an early, lonesome demise is my only option.
I don't think I've always had issues with it, when I was still with my ex, I wasn't opposed to being near her. I enjoyed hugging and cuddling and kissing and what not. And when people came to the house, I always greeted everyone with a hug, I think I was just happier before.
While doing some soul searching a while back, I asked a close friend how I've changed since before the break up, and he mentioned that I don't hug anyone or greet everyone in a general cheery mood when they walk in the door. I don't know if it's that I don't like those people anymore because I feel betrayed by them, or if it's that I don't like to be touched.
The general dislike of all of them is a good possibility; I can't forgive them and I have no real yearning to see them or have them in my life. The only reason I see them is because my older brother still calls them his "friends" and invites them to any major holiday party or event at my house. He doesn't talk to them on a day to day, or even week to week basis, but he knows who they are and he doesn't go out much so he doesn't really talk to his friends constantly either which I guess makes them as close to him as his friends are. Still, it's awkward to not want to be in your own house because people you hate and talk about you are coming over, but if you leave, they all go into your room and go through your stuff while they talk about you (yes, I have come home to them all hanging out in my room, because while we were all friends that's where everyone would hang out).
Still, looking back, I only really stopped hugging people in general when I started cutting and hitting. Partially because a hug would hurt my ribs, and partially because I didn't want anyone to touch me, I felt isolated, alone. I had that secret that they didn't know and wouldn't understand, and if they knew they would talk about it behind my back just like they talk about every other part of my life while I'm not around. And it wouldn't be a concerned "oh, I want him to get help because I really care about him," it would be "oh, he's just doing it for attention." If it was for attention, I wouldn't go to such great lengths to keep it all hidden.
The first week I cut, I looked down at my bloody, scabbed lines and I knew from that day on, it would be next to impossible for me to be close to another human being, because I could never let them see that side of me. No one from my past is close enough now for me to talk to them and have them understand. No one that I bring into my life will know me well enough to want to put up with my problems. I feel an early, lonesome demise is my only option.
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