Loneliness isn't just a social or relational problem solved by surrounding ourselves with people.
It can be a reaction to pain.
I'm thinking about perfection. Maybe I've hidden in my escape partly because I couldn't be perfect enough to get what I needed from my father. Why do I expect my children to be perfect? Is it because I thought I just might manage it with my parents?
Let's get to feelings instead of theories and ideas. I feel doubtful of my value, competence. Removing my drug and coming back from fantasy, I pick up right where I left off as a child when this cycle started:
Who am I?
What's my purpose?
Where do I fit in?
Am I significant, am I useless?
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