I used to call myself an open book. I meant it in a prideful kind of way. My columns, for instance, have been complimented for the level of vulnerability they show.

My focus was on making the public me and private me as overlapping as possible. Why? I know how terribly fallible I am. I never wanted people to be shocked or surprised when I would inevitably break or fail to live up to their or my expectations. If they knew the real me (as much as anyone could) then, when I screwed up, they would think – well yeah, this does not surprise me.

Perhaps even more of a reason – the energy expended in maintaining two personas – Public Peter and Private Peter, seemed beyond me. So I opted simply to be Peter.

Over time I think I have come to see I am less of an open book and more of a fire hydrant that has been hit by a truck and is now spewing its contents in an unrelenting fashion all over everyone who gets even remotely close.

Case in point. This entry.

I’m not sure why. I’m sure a therapist would say it is likely rooted in a childhood where I never felt heard or seen. A childhood where I existed as a ghost…witness to the world around me but incapable of effecting change on it.

This might be why I react to circumstances that feel outside of my control in an almost violent and thoughtless fashion. Such circumstances send me reeling into the abyss as I seek to wrest control and, in so doing, create a level of stability and sense of safety for myself. However it can also manifest like a passenger in a car suddenly leaning over and attempting to wrest control of the steering wheel from the driver and potentially sending us all careening into a tree.

I think this is why I tend to react very well in chaotic emergency situations. I go into take command mode until the emergency has passed or at least stabilized.

Being the kind of person I am means people connect with me easier than I connect with them. People find it easier to connect with people they believe they know. Writers and celebrities run into this all of the time. Unfortunately I have spent my life focused on sustaining typically one good friendship at a time because I don’t think I have the capacity for more.

Why am I writing this? I honestly don’t know. It feels necessary.