when i was little, i got attacked by my neighbor’s two huge dogs. most five year old girls would be scared of all dogs for a good long spell after that. but i somehow understood that just because a dog hurt me one time doesn’t mean that all dogs are scary.
when i was about nine, i got hit in the face with a football. but that didn’t make me never want to play again.
sophomore year, i broke my finger playing soccer. but i didn’t stop loving being a goalie.
my point: just because a certain thing has hurt me at one point in one situation, doesn’t usually mean that i generalize and develop a crippling fear of that thing.
so i don’t understand why i’m afraid of people.
two of them hurt me. they drove me to think horrible things about myself and do horrible things to myself because of those things i thought. to put it simply, they were evil, and i don’t use that word lightly.
then unlike my old, brave self, that could so easily get back on the horse after getting thrown off, i hid.
and i now don’t know how to come out.
just a thought…