I am not sure any phase of my life has been so terrifying. And, I’m not sure why.
I have been through worse, much worse. Yet, this time I feel so all alone, unable to make salient connections. I was never a social being, stayIng connected has always been work for me and at times requiring a great effort to push outside my own brain.
But… I never thought I would be without a local friend who I could call up and go out for coffee with, or take in a movie. Maybe I’m missing my sister. For the first time in our lives we are truly separated and I’m alone. Not just physically, we’ve been apart before and for longer periods. We’ve had different friends and agendas as well. Yet, this time I feel as if that connection is truly lost.
Sure, I have my mom, friends on social media, yet no one I feel I can call up and say “let’s get an ice cream.”
Is that weird? I’m sure some of them (many who are old school friends) would be happy to go out. It’s me who feels intrusive, like I don’t want to bother their nice ordered lives.
Maybe they wouldn’t understand that going out even once would take a lot of effort on my part. Maybe I’m just making excuses for laziness. But, I don’t call.
I have “googled” a gym buddy, who wants to meet before we start working out, which is normal, right? So why am I feeling so apprehensive?
It’s just coffee and a chat. Am I that mistrusting? It’s not a date. Maybe it’s the meeting a stranger thing. Maybe it’s because it a he…no, I think the gender isn’t what’s got me off center. I do know that I will do it or I will end up agoraphobic and there is no one to pull me out of it this time.
I will push myself to get my license as well. What motivates others, terrifies me. It freezes me in place and gnaws at my stomach. Yet, I have to move. I am too young to be frozen. I have to learn to be independent, yet open to leaning on a friend. How do I learn to make friends at my age? How do I ever get comfortable asking for help?
It was never easy for me, not even in school. Now, it seems insurmountable. What would we talk about? I find myself thinking how boring and pathetic I am. Am I really?
Why is it that the rights of passage that come so easily to others feel like an ordeal to me? The simplest tasks are brutal. I keep hearing an acquaintance say “you americans are so soft“. She was chiding me for being a military brat. Thinking that my angst was because I wasn’t hardened up by war in my country.
Part of me knows that this was wrong, that her chastising was her way of bringing control of the conversation, back to her, which she felt she was losing. The other part which was trying to be vulnerable, open and sharing with a group, was shut down hard. I participated in that conversation, but my mind had turned away, gone deep inside. I couldn’t really tell you what else was discussed. It was too much work to stay engaged at that point.
I think it’s why I can’t truly open up to her. She’s not a bad person. On many levels I thinks she’s vivacious and interesting, yet I’ve shut down and its work now. Am I soft? Am I too sensitive as my grandmother used to say? After all these years? Therapy? Coming through the darkness? Haven’t I learned anything? Haven’t I evolved one bit from the little girl, lost in a sea of blackness?
Ok ~SNAP OUTOF IT!~ I’m being maudlin, sure I have. I just need to vent these apprehensions. Like exhaling before you can draw in clean air, I need to let out my misgivings and move on.
It’s time to take the next step.