your slowly shaking finger tips
show that your scared like me so
let's pretend we're alone
and I know you may be scared
and I know were unprepared
but I don't care
tell me tell me
what makes you think that you are invincible
I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure
please don't tell me that I am the only one that's vulnerable
-- Vulnerable, Secondhand Serenade
What really beats me up is my own conscience when I realize that I take my black numbness out on others without warning. It is one thing to be a disappointment as a friend, but when I fail to allow even those who consider themselves to be my friends to know my suffering; I slip further away.
I shoulder my sorrow and refuse to share, but even if they can't help carry, knowing how screwed up I am inside should give them the pause to compensate for my short-comings. Keeping them outside the reasons for my distance isn't fair; much like life.
Unfortunately, my servants guilt finds me and binds me for the numbness as much for the vulnerability.