Okay, so–it’s been a while again and I am sorry about that. I will be trying to write more–it truly is my refuge and my salvation–and my cliche. But cliches grow from truth, so we’ll all live if a little cheese gets mixed in from time to time.
I have been doing a lot of thinking lately about friends and how the whole concept is so weird and wonderful. Just how random strangers and lucky timing can create magic. I don’t know what I’d do without my friends–I honestly don’t. It shouldn’t surprise most of you when I say that I have had some pretty bad romantic experiences in my adult like–and I never would have made it through in one piece without my friends. Another cliche, I know–but it’s true.
I remember way back when I was in the depths of one of the worst depressive episodes that I’ve ever had–two fantastic, beautiful women just wouldn’t stop trying to get me to go out and do stuff with them. They really hung in there–being patient and understanding–and most importantly, accepting me where I was at at that time. Finally giving in and going out was one of the best decisions that I’ve made. I owe them so much that I can never repay. They gave me my self worth back (well, enough to get the ball rolling) and really forced me to deal with the idea that maybe I am not so bad and unworthy of decent people. Yes, I really have felt that way (and still do).
I think that it’s pretty common to feel that way–that you don’t deserve the happiness in your life and/or the good things that happen. It’s those thoughts that actually make me try harder–to be a good person–the sort of person who tries to be as kind and thoughtful as possible. But it’s almost always there–that nagging, negative fog that’s so easy to wrap yourself in–lose yourself in. How does it come to that? How does this identity glitch come about and grow? So many of the people that I admire and respect have social anxiety in one form or another. It blows me away–truly.
I’m not socially awkward, but I am awkward socially, if that makes sense? I get oddly quiet when I’m around a lot of people that I don’t know–but once I start getting used to being there, I start talking more–usually. I suppose that this is a big part of why some people think that I’m a bit snobby when they first meet me–or maybe I am a bit snobby and just don’t realize it. I kind of doubt that. You’d think that I’d know if I was having snobby thoughts, right? Plus, I have that fuct up catnip thing going on–so, snobby probably isn’t it.
I’d be lying if I said that I was fearless about new people. I freak out a little, usually. Like this–I am so super nervous about meeting my bf’s parents. I probably shouldn’t be as nervous as I am–but I just am. Maybe that’s stupid. I just want to make a good impression. He means the world to me.
I consider myself very fortunate to have the people in my life that I do–I cherish you more than you know. Weirdos.
ealvfargond 