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Today I’m neurotic – until I google again.

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It’s official.  I’m neurotic.  (as I notice the hair in my eye in the above picture)

I Googled it, so it must be true.  Plus, it described me to a T on the following:

  • The tendency to restrict oneself, to be satisfied with very little or to remain inconspicuous: Grows out of normal need to move cautiously, delay gratification
  • An insistence of self-sufficiency and independence which does not allow one to ask for help or commit to relationship: Grows out of a normal need for autonomy and self-sufficiency.

Anxiety, self-sufficiency, OCD and having to over analyze every little thing, yup, that’s me. 

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Good news is – it’s not a mental illness and it’s treatable.  basically, ‘get over it’.  Okay, so maybe they suggested therapy to help with that.  But, there is hope. 

Seriously everything I do, from driving beyond 5 miles in the car to being faced with something unexpected, results in a physical reaction akin to readying myself to open a can of Pillsbury dough.

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I have had a reprieve from most of my anxiety, by not interacting with people outside of work.  I have to push myself to do anything that involves making eye contact with others.  Funny thing is though, when I am out there, I’m that kid who just waltzes up to another kid they don’t know and introduces themselves.  It’s mental.  Okay, I’m mental. 

So before I turn into this:

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Or this:

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It’s time to assess myself.

I don’t think it’s a secret that my kryptonite is ‘relationships’ (of the romantic variety.)  *shudder*

I’m talking, full on – fight or flight response to the THOUGHT of it.  I want you in my house, but gone when I want to be alone.  I want you in my life, but don’t tell me how I should be living it.  I want you to find me attractive, but don’t look at me or make me feel like a piece of meat.

It’s terrible. 

Seriously.

Because there is a really good chance that my neurosis in this area will end up truly leading me to my cat lady future.

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This is how I see those relationship petals … nothing is black and white. Except how I want things.  Those are very black and white, and don’t you bring a grey crayon anywhere near me. 

I’ve found a balance that doesn’t give me panic attacks.  It’s called being alone.

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But recently, I’ve had my balance tilted.  Thankfully, these days, when off-center, I stop to look at what is causing it.  I’m a lot more open to the possibility that I (gasp) could be wrong.  

I emailed my best friend and she assured me, she was not about to co-sign my bullshit.  She heard me out – as she always does and about 100 emails later, I could have published my analyses as a thesis. 

I think I convinced myself to some degree that I was doing the humanitarian thing by not getting involved with anyone.  I KNOW I’m a mess.  Who puts themselves out there knowing they’re a train wreck? I have my good qualities too – but don’t think it’s fair to subject someone to my hang ups and neuroses.  I’ve hurt too many people already.

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So if I’m going to even consider changing my cat lady plans – I have to start to work on myself.  That’s the bottom line.  Because even if Prince Charming showed up, with a box of Good and Plenty’s (my favorite) in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other – I’d find something wrong with him.

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People keep saying, “when you meet the right guy, it will be different.”  But, I really think in this case: It’s not you, it’s me is the truth of the matter.

And I’m all for truth.

And hope.

And love.

Just better be EXACTLY the way the ever-changing image of it is in my head, or else.

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