Stay the fuck out of the way,

It's a skill I've been adept at since childhood.

I went to 13 different schools between K-12, and? I skipped 6th grade. That makes one more school than actual grades attended.

Whether is was always being the new kid and wishing for the ground to swallow me whole, or whether it was safe haven from drunk, brawling parents in the nest of blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, and books that inevitably found their way into the back corner of every closet I ever had, or hiding from a whackjob serial killer ex, or being in jail and trying not to make waves, or tip-toeing around people I live with hoping I don't upset them in any way, lest my security be rattled, I've learned really well how to stay the fuck out of the way.

It's served me pretty well, yet, I'm pretty damned sure it's hindered me as much as, if not more than, it has aided me.

Hyper-vigilance. I'm acutely aware of every damned nuance. The least bit of tension? I'm the fuck out of the way. I cocoon myself in the closet in my head and I disappear.

Not such a great thing when you're talking emotional intimacy or day-to-day, meatspace interactions.

Withdraw. Hide. Get in the closet. Stay the fuck out of the way. Heavens to Mergatroid! Exit, stage left!

And? I'm not so sure I even know how to begin changing it.