One Is The Loneliest Number

I figured it out.  Finally. After all these years.  It's been starring me in the face for quite some time now, but I've been afraid to accept it.  I'm a girl after all.  Girls don't have this problem.  If they do, it's only because they're in a bad Hallmark movie and the script calls for it (that's not fair - I like Hallmark movies).  But still, this is a GUY problem, not a girl problem.

I am seriously suffering from it.  It's probably, hands down, one of my biggest fears.  Bigger than being buried alive.  Bigger than my fear of heights.  Bigger than being afraid to walk past Pop Weasel's house on Coal Street.

I am completely and totally afraid of commitment.

Completely.

Totally.

Wikipedia (don't ya just love Wikipedia??) defines commitment as a duty or pledge to something or someone.  And fear as an emotional response to a threat.  So to break it down, I feel threatened by pledging myself to someone... ANYONE.  That's me.  Wuss.

I run - we're talking speed of light running - from anything that even HINTS at committing myself to someone.   I leave quite a mess in my haste to get out.  I rarely if ever look behind. 

I hurt others. 

I hurt myself. 

I hurt God. 

Once, several years ago, dear friends told me that I am a master of sabotaging relationships.  And it's true.  God, please forgive me, but it is T-totally true.  I'm sure that right after they told me this that I felt bad and probably for a nano-second wanted to change.  But I promise you, it quickly faded.  I said nano-second, afterall.

It's so bad and so ingrained in who I am, that I rarely realize what I'm doing.  I hide behind a shield of poor self confidence and a lack of self esteem.  I blame it on the other person.  I have an AMZING knack to find a speck of dirt and declare it a mountain. 

I'm quick to distrust. 

I'm quick to accuse. 

I'm quick to walk-away.

Here's the really funny part.  I desire, no I CRAVE, that connection that you can only get by being committed to someone.  I fear dying alone most of all. 

I have absolutely no one to blame for this sad state but myself.  It's my choice.  And it's a lousy choice.

Problem is I have no earthly clue how to change.  I can confront my fear of heights.  Pop Weasel is long gone so he's no longer a threat.  I have no desire to do battle with the fear of being buried alive, so I'll let that one stay.  But to allow myself to be committed to someone?  To virtually say, "Please hurt me" cause you know they will.  To be vulnerable to the point of possible rejection. 

Really?

Seriously?

Yes.