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Most of you who know me in real life, and quite a few who've only interacted with me online, have probably noticed that I'm a tad ... well, I guess you could call it paranoid. The term is bandied about so much that it seems to lose a lot of its meaning, but I suppose mild paranoia probably applies here.
I am very obviously afraid of a lot of things. I'm afraid of the dark (and on a related note, zombies). I'm afraid of being alone in large, empty buildings, especially at night. I'm afraid to go outside at night by myself and walk around. Every time I have to walk back to my dorm alone in the middle of the night, I keep looking over my shoulder to make sure that no one is following me.
I'm afraid to go out into the world. It's bad enough when I go to class, or to a restaurant or store that I'm familiar with. I feel like people are staring at me for being fat, or dressing like a frump or a slob, and that the slightest mistake will have people laughing at me, openly or otherwise, for being a socially inept monkey. When I go someplace new -- a coffeehouse, maybe, or the gaming shop downtown -- I'm petrified that someone will block my way and tell me that I'm too stupid to be there, that I'm not 'in' enough. I get slightly nauseous because I know I will do something stupid, and I fear that will be enough to have the whole place roaring with laughter.
I'm afraid the whole world is just playing one big joke on me after another. Deep down I'm so goddamn scared that college is an elaborate prank designed to coax me out of my shell just long enough to bring the hammer down and shatter me completely.
I'm afraid of people.
I'm so damned afraid that everyone is going to hurt me. My early experiences with people who claimed to be my friends, or people I mistakenly thought were my friends, has been that people pretend to like me because they want something from me, because they want to play pranks on me, or because they just don't know how to tell me to go away. I'd like to think that this isn't the case now -- I love my friends, every single one of them -- but somewhere I can't bring myself to believe that someone might actually like me for me. I'm convinced that I'm so downright ugly and repulsive, so obnoxious and irritating that no one could ever possibly want to spend time with me unless they thought they were getting something out of it. My own boyfriend can't convince me that I could ever be pretty, that I'm worth something, that he actually wants to spend what little time he can with me.
And it all seems so selfish to me, because all I really want when I spend time with people is for someone to pay attention to me. Just one person, that's all. When I'm with a group of two or more friends, I seem to fade into the background -- and the more people that are present, the more likely it is that this is going to happen. If I can work up the courage to say something, I'm usually either ignored outright, or I'm given the briefest acknowledgment, which seems like an attempt to get me to shut up so the adults can have their conversation. David asked me why I brought my book to Logan's house, and I just shrugged it off because I couldn't bring myself to explain yet again that I just can't handle crowds.
With only one friend, it would seem easier to get my attention fix, but that's not necessarily true. I know people zone out during conversations -- I do it myself, I'll admit -- but sometimes it seems like I'm just talking to fill up the silence. I'll prattle on to an unattentive listener, who is obviously staring out the window at some hottie across the street, or scribbling something down, or thinking of their boyfriend or girlfriend. If they were paying attention they would notice how my voice changes pitch, how my speaking becomes faster, more frantic, until I trail off, chuckle nervously, and prod at them (and whether this is to see if they're actually listening, or to see if they're even real, I'm not sure of anymore). Once or twice I've been in one of these "conversations", and the other person will suddenly start talking to the person next to them, or call out to someone else. Apparently it's too difficult for anyone to politely remove themselves from a conversation these days. I have to be made to feel like a fool instead.
I'm afraid of myself.
It's no secret that I don't like myself too much. I'm more than one hundred pounds overweight, homely, and I dress like a slob to boot. I'm lazy, whiny, and obnoxious. I have no self-esteem, and almost no sense of social boundaries. I'm needy, greedy, self-absorbed, perverse, ignorant, indecisive, stubborn, violent, and hateful. On a good day I'm able to laugh at myself and make self-deprecating jokes, and thankfully those good days come far more often than they used to. But on those bad days... I've gone batshit once or twice -- I hit Andy over a fucking slice of pizza -- and more often than I'd like, I've started crying over stuff that most other people wouldn't think twice about. I don't see why anyone would like me in the least, or want to spend their time with me, or their money on me. I can't imagine someone wanting to be with me if they didn't want sex. There's nothing about me that seems appealing in the slightest.
I don't want to be the girl sitting in the corner because she can't approach a stranger. I don't want to be the crazy old cat lady. I don't want to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, hoping that if I bring hubby his beer and don't interrupt his football game, he'll let me go out with my friends instead of giving me another set of bruises. And I especially don't want to be the one person in a group of friends that everyone simultaneously despises, but either no one is able to tell them to go the fuck away, or that person doesn't listen. I don't want to be the obnoxious one. I don't want to be the whiny emo kid. I want someone to be genuinely glad to see me.
I don't want to be crazy.
All of this makes me feel like I've been zapped back to eighth grade, and just that feeling makes me want to scream until my voice gives out. Tomorrow morning, I'm calling my mom and asking if she will pay for a psychologist, because I think letting this sit will just make things far, far worse.
I am very obviously afraid of a lot of things. I'm afraid of the dark (and on a related note, zombies). I'm afraid of being alone in large, empty buildings, especially at night. I'm afraid to go outside at night by myself and walk around. Every time I have to walk back to my dorm alone in the middle of the night, I keep looking over my shoulder to make sure that no one is following me.
I'm afraid to go out into the world. It's bad enough when I go to class, or to a restaurant or store that I'm familiar with. I feel like people are staring at me for being fat, or dressing like a frump or a slob, and that the slightest mistake will have people laughing at me, openly or otherwise, for being a socially inept monkey. When I go someplace new -- a coffeehouse, maybe, or the gaming shop downtown -- I'm petrified that someone will block my way and tell me that I'm too stupid to be there, that I'm not 'in' enough. I get slightly nauseous because I know I will do something stupid, and I fear that will be enough to have the whole place roaring with laughter.
I'm afraid the whole world is just playing one big joke on me after another. Deep down I'm so goddamn scared that college is an elaborate prank designed to coax me out of my shell just long enough to bring the hammer down and shatter me completely.
I'm afraid of people.
I'm so damned afraid that everyone is going to hurt me. My early experiences with people who claimed to be my friends, or people I mistakenly thought were my friends, has been that people pretend to like me because they want something from me, because they want to play pranks on me, or because they just don't know how to tell me to go away. I'd like to think that this isn't the case now -- I love my friends, every single one of them -- but somewhere I can't bring myself to believe that someone might actually like me for me. I'm convinced that I'm so downright ugly and repulsive, so obnoxious and irritating that no one could ever possibly want to spend time with me unless they thought they were getting something out of it. My own boyfriend can't convince me that I could ever be pretty, that I'm worth something, that he actually wants to spend what little time he can with me.
And it all seems so selfish to me, because all I really want when I spend time with people is for someone to pay attention to me. Just one person, that's all. When I'm with a group of two or more friends, I seem to fade into the background -- and the more people that are present, the more likely it is that this is going to happen. If I can work up the courage to say something, I'm usually either ignored outright, or I'm given the briefest acknowledgment, which seems like an attempt to get me to shut up so the adults can have their conversation. David asked me why I brought my book to Logan's house, and I just shrugged it off because I couldn't bring myself to explain yet again that I just can't handle crowds.
With only one friend, it would seem easier to get my attention fix, but that's not necessarily true. I know people zone out during conversations -- I do it myself, I'll admit -- but sometimes it seems like I'm just talking to fill up the silence. I'll prattle on to an unattentive listener, who is obviously staring out the window at some hottie across the street, or scribbling something down, or thinking of their boyfriend or girlfriend. If they were paying attention they would notice how my voice changes pitch, how my speaking becomes faster, more frantic, until I trail off, chuckle nervously, and prod at them (and whether this is to see if they're actually listening, or to see if they're even real, I'm not sure of anymore). Once or twice I've been in one of these "conversations", and the other person will suddenly start talking to the person next to them, or call out to someone else. Apparently it's too difficult for anyone to politely remove themselves from a conversation these days. I have to be made to feel like a fool instead.
I'm afraid of myself.
It's no secret that I don't like myself too much. I'm more than one hundred pounds overweight, homely, and I dress like a slob to boot. I'm lazy, whiny, and obnoxious. I have no self-esteem, and almost no sense of social boundaries. I'm needy, greedy, self-absorbed, perverse, ignorant, indecisive, stubborn, violent, and hateful. On a good day I'm able to laugh at myself and make self-deprecating jokes, and thankfully those good days come far more often than they used to. But on those bad days... I've gone batshit once or twice -- I hit Andy over a fucking slice of pizza -- and more often than I'd like, I've started crying over stuff that most other people wouldn't think twice about. I don't see why anyone would like me in the least, or want to spend their time with me, or their money on me. I can't imagine someone wanting to be with me if they didn't want sex. There's nothing about me that seems appealing in the slightest.
I don't want to be the girl sitting in the corner because she can't approach a stranger. I don't want to be the crazy old cat lady. I don't want to be barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen, hoping that if I bring hubby his beer and don't interrupt his football game, he'll let me go out with my friends instead of giving me another set of bruises. And I especially don't want to be the one person in a group of friends that everyone simultaneously despises, but either no one is able to tell them to go the fuck away, or that person doesn't listen. I don't want to be the obnoxious one. I don't want to be the whiny emo kid. I want someone to be genuinely glad to see me.
I don't want to be crazy.
All of this makes me feel like I've been zapped back to eighth grade, and just that feeling makes me want to scream until my voice gives out. Tomorrow morning, I'm calling my mom and asking if she will pay for a psychologist, because I think letting this sit will just make things far, far worse.
