Here's the thing -- can you find the strength to chop off important bits of yourself, even if the alternative is illness and death? Like a gangrenous limb slowly poisoning the body, I've let several relationships hang on past their time in some vain hope that they can be salvaged.
Fear? Sure, fear is involved. Fear of change, fear of making a wrong decision, fear of loss.
Yet a point must come when one... no, when *I* must decide to make a clean break from the people who refuse to take the steps they need to take to take care of themselves. In this case, it's having the common sense of staying as far away from me as possible.
I can already hear the assumptions rumbling from the land of bits and bytes. You think this is about YOU, don't you? Or perhaps you're drawing the conclusion it's about her? Or them?
I've spent a large part of this day neither eating or drinking. I can't bring myself to face the leap I have to make. Maybe that's the root of my cowardice, somehow forcing people to decide for me.
But I have to learn to jump without being pushed, cajoled, or threatened. Maybe this is the week I can do that, and proceed with a life free of guilt or obligation to dying limbs.
Take me as I am, or stay the fuck away. There is no longer any room for compromise, and I no longer have any time to put up with people's judgments and fantasies. I have to focus on reality, as it exists for everyone, and not as it is constructed in the minds of the ill of mind. When y'all are ready to do that, let's talk. But the moment I detect that unmistakable smell of bullshit designed to shame or manipulate me, I'm stopping the conversation, even if it means walking away while you're still talking.
Even if it means never seeing any of you again.
ANY of you.