I ruminate about trust.
I argue with myself. I stare at the wall to quell my questioning brain, my nature. That nature to seal myself in.
I mentioned to someone at work how I trust no one, absolutely no one, and his face fell. Sadly he looked at me, muttered “That must suck.”
I always assumed trust was something you just had-that if you had to think about it, actively work at it, then perhaps your faith is misplaced. I get older and I don’t know anymore. I can’t blindly trust, not anymore. But working at it seems so contrary, so counter to the entire thing.
I’ve asked it before, but I ask it again-how do we trust? How do we feel safe in the belief that the people in our lives won’t hurt us, won’t betray us or leave us? How do we find our footing on that path if we’ve become lost?
I worry you know, that I’ve totally lost my capacity for any sort of trust, and it saddens me. I want that glossy place of faith, or surety. I worry that I’ll totally revert to the girl waiting for someone to hurt her, instead of the woman sure she only has good people in her life.
Even new people-it’s so hard, so terribly drastically hard, even when I meet someone and they are totally, 100% getting me for once, something I never, ever have happen, and I just can’t break down that wall, this fencing I’ve placed around myself. I see them and I see hurt and laughter and whispered tweets or stories and I can’t imagine opening up at all, not totally as you might do with a good friend down the road.
My lack of trust is nearly suffocating at this point, but how do you fix it? Do you fall headfirst into it all, or do you just get used to life with less oxygen?