This is brave, honest, and deeply self-aware. What you’ve written captures a very human inner conflict—the longing for connection fighting against the reflex to protect yourself by withdrawing. You're not alone in this tension.
The push-pull you describe—reaching out and then pulling back—is something often seen in people who’ve been hurt, disappointed, or let down over and over. It becomes easier, even safer, to trust solitude over the unpredictable terrain of closeness. That “delusion of safety” you mention isn’t just poetic—it’s psychologically accurate. Isolation can start to feel like control. But it’s also a kind of slow emotional suffocation.
The line “I can’t let anyone in. I can’t remember why I stopped.” suggests the defenses are so old and deeply ingrained, they’ve become reflexes—part of a “you” that might not be your original self, but a version sculpted by years of unmet needs or betrayals. The pain that created this version of you is real. But so is the part of you still trying.
"But this isn't really me. Or is this me, now..."
That’s a vital question. It’s also not one you need to rush to answer. Identities shift under pressure, but they don’t vanish. If you’re writing this, if you’re still trying to message people—even if inconsistently—it means the part of you that wants warmth, connection, and authenticity hasn’t been extinguished.
Here’s something to consider:
Self-sabotage is often a form of self-protection in disguise. The fear of being disappointed again, of being seen and then rejected, or of needing someone who might not be there—it’s easier to pull the plug early and feel like you chose it. But then, of course, you're alone again, and that hurts too.
If you want to explore this deeper, here are a few angles:
What do you fear would happen if someone really did see the real you and stayed?
Are you afraid of your own neediness? Or of someone else's?
Is there a memory—not necessarily clear—of a time when opening up didn't go well, and that set the template?
You don’t have to fix this all at once. Just stay curious about it. And maybe keep writing like this. There’s a lot of clarity already in you—more than you might realize.
