Just another depressing post

One of my friends said recently that she was embarked on a course of self-destruction. We didn’t discuss it at the time, but I can empathise with that.

For me, it’s a relationship thing. I really can’t handle them.

I’m either incredibly immature (almost certainly) and/or just incapable of handling a nice relationship (equally almost certainly).

I can never believe that something will last – if it feels nice it must be too good to be true – and I’m always waiting for the bitter and inevitable end. And maybe that’s why I feel like rushing it along, hastening the end, to get past the bad bit and move on.

Or I’m not sure whether I feel exposed when I share part of myself with people, and want to rush back into my shell, just venturing out on the odd occasional foray. Or whether I am like a stray dog, wanting to take the scraps offered but frightened that the hand that feeds me will hurt – so I bite it instead.

Maybe I can’t handle all-round perfect nice people. They seem to bring out the worst in me. I like people to have faults. And be real.

Or perhaps I don’t trust people. They usually let you down in the end.

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About roughseasinthemed

I write about my life as an English person living in Spain and Gibraltar, on Roughseas, subjects range from politics and current developments in Gib to book reviews, cooking and getting on with life. My views and thoughts on a variety of topics - depending on my mood of the day - can be found over on Clouds. A few pix are over on Everypic - although it is not a photoblog. And of course my dog had his own blog, but most of you knew that anyway. Pippadogblog etc
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