Mess

I'm a paranoid person. But not in the sense that I think someone is out to get me. But in the sense that when I'm alone, people see it as lonely. Or they notice what I'm wearing, what I'm eating. I'm paranoid that people look at me and watch my every move. I'm paranoid that I've got something to prove to people-and that there's nothing to prove to them. I'm also paranoid that those around me don't always want to be around me. That they just do it out of pity or because they feel obligated to. It's not a comfortable way for me to live. Yet I have been all these years. And I can't kid myself anymore. As badly as I want to say I'm that independent woman who just doesn't care what others think about her, I'm a paranoid mess.