I don’t know anyone that doesn’t have an addiction or compulsion in some way, shape or form.
I have several (as most do) and I can name them. I can go back to the tender age of 5 or 6 years-old.
What did I need? Undying, free-flowing loving affection. My mother gave me the edited version and it hurt.
My mother was my first love. Her scent was of cajeta, coffee, perspiration and Shalimar. I was always clinging onto her.
I wanted more, more, more love. When I didn’t get it I cried as if my mother had been brutally murdered. Yes, she’s alive.
I cried to the point of exhaustion and then slept. Fortunately, Little me had a back-up plan. Mom’s not the only one.
Anyone that showed me any approval could easily replace my mother on the ‘love list’. This was dangerous and a huge red flag.
Break-ups were springboards to suicidal thoughts. If someone didn’t like me for any reason it mania’s signal to go bat shit crazy.
This mindset can be so insanely perpetual if left unchecked. Do I need love now? Of course I do. I get from family and friends everyday.
Is that all I need? No. I need likes, comments and follows from lovely strangers that I’ll probably never meet.
I confess that I constantly check my stats. At least I’m not crying into hyperventilation.
coconutspeak 