One thing that I have always found challenging is learning how to be vulnerable with others.

I know how to be vulnerable. I think I am a vulnerable person. I have plenty of insecurities, and I am not the bravest person in the world. I have enough honesty in me to admit all these things, but I cannot, for the life of me, get myself to open up fully with others. I am always carrying my burdens alone; no one knows of my problems but myself. I see nothing wrong with it as it is, because I find myself capable of handling them all by myself, but the complications arise when suddenly, I am not that capable anymore.

I don’t know what the root of it is.

I have friends. I have best friends, and I know that they’re always there when I need them, when I need anyone to turn to. They tell me this, and I acknowledge it. They are my soulmates in this world, and I know that they are understanding people and will not take anything I divulge to them against me. They are with me in any fight.

I have a family that loves me. I have parents who are giving their hardest for me, and I have a brother whom I have come to understand and know more deeply as a person as we grow older together. I love them; I would take a bullet for them. I am not kidding.

The problem lies: even with the presence of all these reassuring people in my life, I still could not bring myself to go to them for emotional help. They know it’s okay; well, even I know it’s 100% okay to ask for help. I even tell everyone this. When I say, “I’m here if you need anyone to talk to,” I really mean it. We all have our moments of weakness. I just cannot bring myself to.

Of course, there have been a few moments when I didn’t have a choice but come apart in front of them, but all those moments, they were all last-minute confessions, where everything was already falling apart, and I didn’t have a choice but come clean. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “You should have told me…” “I didn’t know you were going through all that.” I hear these things all the time. In the end, I just hurt all these people who care for me. I know they probably felt that I don’t trust them enough to share my burdens with them, or that I didn’t even consider them that close or important to me to begin with. That’s not true at all.

Why am I so afraid of being weak?

Why am I so afraid to admit to myself that some things are too much for me?

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Maybe it’s because I hate being a burden to others. Above many things, I hate being dead weight, being dragged around by others who are better off without me hampering their progress. I hate being given special treatment out of pity. No matter how many times anyone reassures me that they will never consider me as a burden, my mind will forever be stuck to that “I don’t want to be a burden to you” mentality. It’s my mind that is unwilling to change, no matter how external circumstances prove otherwise.

I am the complete opposite of that person who has extreme dependency problems.

I want to change this about myself, because, one day, I am sure that this will be the cause of my demise. But the thing is, this isn’t news to me. It’s something I have already known about myself for many, many years. And even with that self-awareness, I haven’t changed much. How much do I really want it? The degree of want is pretty miniscule right now, and I am speaking with complete honesty.

I’m so stubborn.

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