“No matter where you go, there you are.” ~Confucius
I am accustomed to not moving. To move was to feel pain—the pain of seeing how worthless I believed myself to be. Sometimes I would sit in the same place for hours, sometimes not leaving the house for days.
By isolating myself, I avoided finding evidence in the outside world that proved how I saw myself was the absolute truth.
My worst nightmare was that others would show me (through what they said or didn’t say, or what they did or didn’t do) that they too found me as rotten as …