Why Do Adults Ghost Each Other?

I'm not sure I understand why we do this to each other...as adults. In so many ways, it feels like we are just grown ups who never outgrew high school.

I have been jealous of others and that jealousy has lead me at times to make moves to guard my own heart because I definitely have fomo (fear of missing out), anxiety, depression, abandonment issues and the feeling that no matter what I do, I will NEVER ever be good enough and in full honesty, I have been guilty of blocking people who have hurt me and people involved in certain things that trigger me because at times I have to look at certain parts of my life like they were addictions or toxic relationships.

I have to accept that no matter what, there are going to be a large and sometimes very visible/vocal group of people who rather than work through things with me person to person and come to an understanding or workable position would rather just make me out to be a bad person. Maybe I'm delusional thinking that I'm actually a decent human being. I can tell you that I have never intentionally set out to hurt anyone and if I did hurt someone unintentionally because I don't always communicate well or I may have accidentally did something that made them upset and rather than work through it I'm definitely someone that cutting ties with seems like the best answer.

I guess I'm foolish for even expecting someone that I once loved and cared about as a friend or colleague should tell me to my face or even in an email or a message that they just need to let me go and move on because whatever it is about me that they don't like is a deal breaker for them. In many ways, I'd understand that because I've felt that way before myself. But I know we as humans don't like to have those tough conversations. I'm actively working on accepting that people just don't like me. It's okay. However, I wish we could all just tell one another before going radio silent that we had to let go and move on. At any rate. I'm here in the middle of the night running over old scripts of life wondering what I did wrong, what I said wrong and what I did to deserve things from time to time.

I'm constantly told by people who live with me that these people I worry about probably don't even give me a moment's thought. So why do I care? I don't know. Regardless, I'd love to ghost that part of my brain.

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