Overcoming Paranoia by Letting People Love Me

I worked hard to develop a lot of confidence and self esteem. On my own, I loved myself. Alone, in my own skin, I thought I was hot, smart, wonderfully unique, resilient, and a good person. I felt best as a loner and I became ok being alone a lot. It was when I felt good.

Even with all of this work, even as an introvert, I did want people in my life. I wanted peers. People I could trust. And count on.

I would invite people into my world and it would set in. You can’t trust these people. And you definitely cannot trust groups. When it comes down to the survival of the group, you will always be disposable, as you have been before. You know from personal experience that no one cares if you’ve been harmed or abused if one of the leaders has done it. If the charismatic person can convince others you are crazy, you will lose. After all, you ARE crazy, right? It’s better just to run away. Before they hurt you and you hurt them. It’s better alone anyways.

Of course, every little behavior from said people that could reinforce this in my mind would add to this paranoia. She’s nice to you now, but who knows what she does when you leave the room. She won’t stand by your side when one of her own attacks. He won’t support you if it means standing up for you when the time comes. Those people who mentioned you in conversation? They’re all talking about you, plotting to get rid of you. To destroy you. Those people who don’t like you? They’re out to get you. They’re talking about you all the time. They’re orchestrating plans to ostracize and demonize you.

Everything is extreme.

Paranoid.

The most difficult part is that I am a unique individual. I am strange. I am assertive and confident. I am threatening to some people. Some people really do dislike me within moments of meeting me and others fall for me hard. There are polar and extreme reactions to me. People actually have plotted against me, spread rumors, sought to destroy me in the past. Bullying has been a staple throughout my entire life. Like many neuroses, it is based in part in reality.

Now I hold onto the past. As I create the outcome I am used to by keeping everyone at a distance.

As I have more and more social interaction, the paranoia grows. My mind places me in the middle of two sides- the few who love me and the rest who will destroy me, and win. The ones who care will be swayed, don’t you worry. And those left are those who have become obsessed enough with the idea of you that they don’t even know who you are. And I will then run away. Like I always do. To be safe. Alone again. And to build myself back up.

I hate myself for it. It’s me, right? It has to be me- attracting this from everyone. It would be silly to assume everyone else is fucked up and not me. It’s me. I am bad. I am bad. Wait a minute, how did I learn to hate myself again? I’m questioning my worth, my sanity, basing my assessments of myself on the thoughts of others. Or perceived thoughts.

Stuck in my head again.

Everyone is talking. No one can be trusted.

And it blinds me, to those who can be, and those who care. Those who have been telling me they care, trying to care, as I push everyone out.

A light bulb goes on.

It is not my self esteem I have lost. It’s the trust of others that never existed. I do not trust that others love me or care for me. If they say they do, I assume first that they are lying. “Don’t you dare lie to me. Tell me the truth, even if it hurts.” It’s easier to assume that no one can be trusted than it is to trust them and have them turn on you. Again. And Again.

Behavior of the traumatized. It’s written all over me.

I have to forgive myself. For being this way. I was made this way. I am responsible for recovery. But not what happened to me. So many times.

So I take a risk. Trust. Trust that some care.

I let them in. The other misfits, like me. I trust that they are telling me the truth. That they will not leave me behind when someone attacks. That they will stand by my side. I trust, even with the risk.

And then, they do. They support me, stand by me. What is this? This isn’t real. This isn’t human. They don’t do this. What is happening? Could it be… that they care enough…. to risk, too?

Could it be that they see me, as I see everyone?

And then, they stay. They help and support me. They love me, care for me. They let me be moody and anxious and paranoid and crazy. They let me be flawed and beautiful. They let me care for them. And stop me when I need cared for.

No no. This can’t be. Can it?

It is.

I let go. I let go. I let them in. Breaking down one wall at a time. I tell them of those who have harmed me. Of entire groups of people that didn’t listen when I tried to tell them one (or two, or three) of their own had abused me. Of those who laughed at me. Ignored me. Of those who joined in. Of how I learned to rely only on myself and no one else. Of the things that had been done to me and things I had done. Of all I had learned over the years on my own.

And they stay. And the support. And they love.

And suddenly, I realize.

I am not paranoid. Right now. I am not paranoid.

No one is plotting against me. No one is trying to destroy me. People are being people, going about their days. Some are hurtful. Some are mean. Some are nice. Some are loving. Some dislike me. A lot. Some don’t.

But the entire world is not against me. At this moment.

I let people love me and my paranoia died. A little at a time. It is barely surviving. It cannot survive.

In hindsight, without it, I realize how bad and crippling it was. How the paranoia infected every interaction I had with others. How it was much worse than I ever realized.

Trust kills paranoia. And I’ve been lucky enough, finally, to find people worth giving it to. So worth it that right now, it’s ok if it doesn’t last forever. Because right now, I’m finally free. From grinding thoughts and anxiety about every person. From fear. From watching and waiting for the next strike.

Right now, it’s going to be ok. Right now, I don’t have to be alone. Right now, I’m letting people love me.

All is hardcore when made with love.