Earlier this week I dropped my erm...pencil bag in the kitchen. And I didn't realize it until I got home from work, and Jackson held up a pencil bag and asked if it was mine. Although there were the same amount of pencils, and I didn't know where my pencil bag was, I had trouble believing that this one was mine, because it was dirtier and the pencils seemed shorter. Even though lots of things corroborated, some things didn't. And I wasn't going to accept the truth till everything did.
Yesterday my bosses were talking to a young guy in my office and for a little while I was worried I was being replaced by him.
I fought with Jackson yesterday because he was not in a good mood and I assumed it was because of me.
My mom called me yesterday afternoon upset with me because her dad is pestering her. And blamed me because I talked to him. I did not ask him to pester her. I was not at fault. But I was upset because I was being blamed.
I feel overly responsible for things. Because a lot of times I am blamed for things I am not responsible for, I sometimes overcompensate and assume that I am being blamed for things I am not.
It's sad because now I'm left realizing that I'm probably hurting my relationships by making these assumptions. If not, I'm definitely adding unpleasantness.
Anxiety is learned.
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