“You are afraid of letting anyone get close.”
— My sister
This week’s quote isn’t from a book or a public figure. It came from my sister during a phone conversation: “You are afraid of letting anyone get close.” The moment she said it, I felt the truth of it. This is the issue I need to face more directly—one that underlies many of my fears, beliefs, and behaviors.
I’ve written in earlier posts about fear, limiting beliefs, distrust, and the patterns that shape how I relate to others. But this week clarified something essential: two core fears form the wall around me, protecting me from both real and imagined harm:
· If I allow others to get close, they may hurt me. Therefore, others can’t be trusted.
· If I get close to others, I may hurt them. Therefore, I can’t be trusted.
The first fear makes sense, given the traumatic experiences of my early childhood—events I’ve described in previous posts. Those moments shaped my negativity bias, my tendency to anticipate danger, and my ingrained distrust of others.
The second fear also makes sense. I can remember too many times when I disappointed people I cared about—holding back honesty, withdrawing emotionally, filtering my thoughts out of fear of rejection, abandonment, or triggering someone’s anger. In many ways, fear #2 loops right back into fear #1. Both reinforce each other.
And even now, part of me worries that I could stumble in my recovery. I’ve promised myself I won’t relapse again, but because I’ve failed before, a piece of me still questions whether I can fully trust that promise.
This is Week 47 of my 52-week commitment—over 90% of the way to my goal. If this were a quarter-mile race, I’d have about 130 feet left to run. I will cross the finish line. And then I will turn this sobriety race into a recovery marathon: steady, persistent, and forward-moving, mile after mile.
I’m deeply engaged in learning right now—recovery, psychology, CBT, critical thinking, attachment theory, neuroscience, Stoicism, Buddhism. Books, audiobooks, podcasts, videos, websites—each helping me make sense of my experiences. These insights support my recovery, but immersion can be exhausting without time to rest.
So I’m stopping here for today. Time for a nature walk with my camera. Time for quiet. Time to let my mind settle and reset before continuing this work.