I go through these cycles of withdrawn. Sometimes it’s physical. I’ll go off into another room and disappear. I find it uncomfortable to be near anyone. My skin crawls at the idea. This doesn’t happen too much anymore. Isolation has enforced that on me anyway. Sometimes my withdraws are mental. I’ll disappear into my imagination or a video game. This one I actually don’t mind traumatising. I find it natural. Therapeutic. But, my biggest withdrawl is socially. I won’t ghost. That’s different. I’ll reply to text. I’ll have a thought and I’ll contact the person. But I won’t be mentally or emotionally attached like they’re used to. There is an obvious disconnection people have noticed and many people don’t accept that about me. It’s something I’m learning to understand about myself still anyway.

It’s not personal. It’s just me.

Let me put it this way. When I was a child, I wasn’t social. I did not have ONE person come over and sleep over or hang. Even. In. The. Yard. I went over to a sleepover once in my life. I was never allowed to again. I didn’t even go out for drinks afterwards in college. I had to go straight home. Even if I wasn’t told, it was implied or I felt compelled to. My tether to my home was strong. I was excluded. Purposefully. Whether my bioparents want to admit it or not, I was physically withdrawn from people. Home wasn’t safe. I wouldn’t have allowed it even if it were suggested. No way I’d ever feel safe with friends around a parent who wasn’t safe with us. And it’s a good thing, too, because when it finally did happen, I was proven right. It wasn’t safe.

I was used to be alone. Which is ironic. Because I’m an extrovert. I love being around people. I’m a Leo. I love being in the spotlight (as long as I’m the performer and not the specimen.) So as I get into a social circle, I will thrive. I’ll do well. As I get beyond the social circle and into more meaningful friendships, that’s when the withdrawing happens. I’ll either burn myself out and need to recharge or I’ll get so comfortable it’ll make me uncomfortable. I won’t believe it’s real. Too good to be true. I’ll take a step back and I’ll test the relationship. Is this person going to stay? Am I doing too much? Am I overwhelming them? Are they overwhelming me? Should I prepare myself for them abandoning me as so many do?

And sometimes it’s sabotage. But most times it’s accurate. It’s a great defense.

But I need to start learning that when that voice inside of me says withdraw, I need to do the opposite. I don’t think I can trust it as much as I think I can. Sure it protects me. But it also makes me feel lonely, abandoned and paranoid.

I also find I withdraw when I actually need help. I’m struggling internally, financially, etc. ‘Oh, there we go. Things are tough. Get back into that little den, Michael.’ and I need to start replacing it with ‘I need help.” But again, I need to be kind to myself. I’ve had years…no…decades of asking for help and getting none in return.

In He Was A Boy Who Smiled 3, coming in December 2021, there are numerous cases where I asked for help from adults. Even from the other kids, to be honest. But none of them believed me. My bioparents did a great job of gaslighting. To neighbours. To principals. To teachers. They were pros and defusing the situation so the physical abuse didn’t come out. To paint me out as the liar. They even used my gift as the story-teller against me. And they did it up until I decided not to incorporate them into my family unit. When I walked away and said, I’m more. I’m worth it. I’m better than this. How you treat me isn’t right.

Decades of retreating. Withdrawing. Listening to that voice inside of my head that says hide. But I’m tired of hiding. Withdrawing. Being ashamed of myself when I am a good person. I know logically I am a good person.

I just don’t feel it.

And I wonder how many of you read this and just nodded. Who sit there now and whisper, “Me, too.” Because I hear you.

Next time that voice tells me to hide, I’m going to try and do the opposite.

Please excuse the mess that might follow. I’m new to this.