Pushing People Away...the good wounded animal that I am

It has become harder and harder to write about painful experiences and feelings. Minus the skill of dissociation, I am left to my own instincts. Self-preservation tells me to "heal" and write about it, release it from the chained darkness. Self-preservation and inherent human nature tells me to avoid pain, run and hide.
 As I reveal, one toe at a time, I must retreat. Like a wounded animal, I fear that I am overexposed and in danger, as I am vulnerable and highly distressed. I vehemently push people away when I hurt. The more pain, the bigger the shove. I was taught that being in pain, if others noticed, more pain would be inflicted. Hmmm, guess you'd call that torture. Sounds about right.
 There never was comfort when I hurt. Quite the opposite. So I do what I've been trained and repeatedly done. I hide and shove. If I've been burned, I'd rather stand by the fire then anywhere near the coolness of a being with the potential for further harm. Damn, that sounds kinda messed up. One reason I'm detesting writing.....so much truth to process.
 I know I am in great pain. I wear it on my face, in my clothes, about my avoidant walk and downward gaze. Please, don't see how much I hurt. I won't allow anyone near, especially someone with open eyes.
 My level of trust...ha..it be gone. Pain, emotional pain....of losing, mistakes, right answer with heavy repercussions....is my center stage. The rest of the world has gone dim. I barely notice if it's night or day. Am I awake? Or asleep? It's as if I'm cocooned within an invisible, thick, smoggy vortex...and it's hard to see or notice anything outside of my self. Autism at its finest. The ease of withdrawal still saves me. I can't deal with anymore, right now.
 I push. I shove. I hide.