September 30, 2013

  • stupid

    I hate being me.

    Supposed to go help Jester move. And enjoy a cookout with his friends. But I can’t. Because I sit by the fire and am the only quiet, small person there at all, and all I can think about is how LOUD and boisterous and personable everyone else is, and what on earth am I even doing, drinking a Mike’s black cherry lemonade because I can’t stand beers and why do I even bother having anything anyway and I should go sit by myself on the swing set and get out of everyone’s way because I don’t belong there and now everyone is talking about drunk stories and now everyone is making sex jokes and telling semi-graphic sex stories and I would like them to have some sense of decency but I had better just say nothing because that’s how people get to not liking you and they’re his friends and he likes to know them and spend time with them and I had better just deal with it——-but why am I THERE? And I don’t see a point because I am not like those people, and it’s making me uncomfortable, and I should just go sit on the swing set like a child that someone couldn’t find a babysitter for, except then someone will look at me and how pathetic I am and I just would rather nobody looked at me and I want to go away but I wanted to eat some food first and it isn’t done yet…so I go sit on the front porch where nobody will see me. Except that he saw me go around the house and comes to get me and ask what is the matter probably most of it is that I am getting anxious and want to go away and am watching a cat crouching in a yard down the way and just want to watch the cat instead of listen to raunchy stories and stupid talking about how shitfaced everyone is going to get or has gotten at this party or that game or whatever because I don’t care and can’t relate but I can relate to the cat. Just crouching there and looking at something. Or nothing. Just alone and not being bothered. And I want to cry because I feel so stupidly out of place.

    …I feel like I let him down sometimes.

Comments (4)

  • I don’t think you let him down. It takes a huge amount of work to be around people you don’t know like that and NOT react that way. I’m sure he must appreciate it?

    • He says he does. But I don’t know. I am getting worse and worse about it when I have to be around people I am not extremely familiar with or with whom my interactions are governed by some other purpose, like work.

  • I fret about my interactions with people too, even though I try not to. But still, there are some people in your life who really matter, and most of them don’t. It’s not that they aren’t important in themselves, of course, but their relationship to you is tangent or secant at best. I guess it’s easy to wax philosophical after being as withdrawn from humanity as I have been. But as I creep back into the human world, I try to remember that the people who care about me are still there.

    • Truth. I think it’s just that certain types of interactions terrify me for some reason. Enough to nearly spark panic attacks. I don’t understand it, but I feel like it definitely has to do with the pressure to be “social” and find a common ground with people whose speech and interests are completely alien to me.

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