I’m surrounded by idiots. And narcissists. And rude people.
At least that’s the way it feels. When I get frustrated with life — as happens more often than I like to admit — I feel my internal pressure rising and I want to get as far away from humans as I can. I want to be a hermit.
But when I think about it with less fear and anger, I’m confused by the situations in which I find myself. I know the world is full of amazing people — those whose thinking and interests and curiosity are more like my own — but I rarely get to spend time with those people.
And why is it that I somehow end up spending so much time with people who help me recreate horrible old emotional dynamics from my past? Even people with perfectly good intentions can make me feel as though I’m struggling against my father’s oppressive control.
Why do I attract such people into my life — and somehow push away those with whom I would be happier?