Perpetually Unfinished
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
And life goes on.
I've been thinking a lot yesterday and today. About me, and how I've been living my life lately. I don't know; I'm really not happy in general with how this quarter has been for me emotionally. In terms of the ways I've acted, there've been plusses and minuses. But I think I've fallen into the trap of saying, "Either feel/act this way emotionally, or pull back and stop trying to interact with people." That's bullshit. Yeah, taking risks and caring about friendships that may or may not develop the way I want them to is scary and is going to make me more unsteady than usual. But that doesn't mean I have to freak out about it, doesn't mean I have to let it fill in all the empty spaces in my time, let what other people think about me be more important than what I think about myself. I end up going in circles: decide connections are important, try to build friendships, analyze how that's going, decide it's not going so well, try to figure out how to make it work better, put pressure on every interaction, overanalyze it all... it's fucking ridiculous. I waver back and forth between quiet, passive insecurity and the 5th-grade girl's endless, "Do you like me? Do you still like me? Do you still like me?" and somehow manage to get the worst of both. I'm endlessly self-absorbed, so much so that genuine caring for others gets hopelessly tangled up in it.
It's hard, though. Because I know that making new friends is probably the part of my life I'm worst at. And most of that is because I put too much pressure on myself, overanalyze everything, think and dwell too much. But overthinking is precisely the strong reflex response I have when I'm trying to fix a problem. "Relax and don't think about it" may be something that other people can do naturally, but it's really, really hard for me in regard to anything, let alone something that's really important to my life and that I'm doing badly at. And I know that friendships should be things that flow naturally, that come into being easily and unartificially, that they're about people enjoying eachothers' company and deciding you want to do that more. But that just doesn't happen for me, not very often, anyway. And so-- unless things are going almost completely smoothly, and I'm getting all the affirmation signals I need-- trying to develop friends can really be a frustrating, painful experience for me.
One really refreshing respite to that lately has been making friends with Peter. For whatever reason, most of the typical rules don't seem to apply to him, and I somehow manage to feel comfortable around him despite not knowing him terribly well or for very long. I can spend a couple hours in his room, or all of Dillo Day talking to him (because honestly, despite the fact that we were in a group of 4-8 people most of the time, did I really talk to anyone else? no), or 2 1/2 hours straight on IM, and have fun, and not feel self-conscious or dumb or unwanted. I mean, yeah, it's mostly silly banter and random off-the-wall discussions, but whatever. It's really nice to be making a new friend and feeling happy more often than I feel lousy about it, and to remind myself that I'm not completely incompetent at interacting with people and making new friends, as long as the person is as friendly and easygoing as Peter.
I know that part of it's because when I'm talking to Peter, I get the impression that he is actually happy to be talking to me. I feel like he's probably like that with almost everybody, but it doesn't matter much. I don't need to prove myself, be constantly self-conscious. I feel at ease because it seems like he's glad we're talking and I know I'm glad we're talking and so what else do you really need? With most other people, some a lot more than others, I usually feel like the person I'm talking to would like nothing better than for me to leave them alone. Whether or not that's actually true, it's hard to feel comfortable in that situation.
There's more to it than that, though. Kyle said something the other day-- I forget the exact words-- about conversations not needing to be structured or to go perfectly unless you have an agenda for them. I guess I do really have agendas for my conversations when I'm trying to make friends, especially when I feel like my opportunities to have those conversations are limited. I go in and think, "Okay, by the end of this conversation, I need to convince this person to like me more than they did at the beginning, so that we can grow closer." That's a ridiculous mindset for anyone, let alone someone like me who panics under pressure. But it's really hard to help it. I don't have an agenda when I'm talking to Peter, though. I mean, it's not that I don't think it would be nice to get to know eachother better and talk about more substantive issues sometime. But I'm not spending my interactions with him worrying about that. And somehow that makes all the difference.
I don't know. Sometimes I feel utterly ridiculous and pathetic and like I'm about as screwed up as people get. And then, I stop and think about it, and really, everyone is pretty fucked up in one way or another. We all have big issues, and we can't seem to deal with something major in the way we know we should. We have our problems in our own totally unique ways... but honestly, if there's anyone I know who I can't think about for a minute and say, "Yeah, he/she's pretty messed up when it comes to X," I don't know them very well. It's easy to feel pathetic if everyone else seems to cope with our particular weakness far better than we do, but all of the "everyone else"s have their own problems with something else. That's just the way life works, I guess.
As we were listening to The Wailers on Saturday night, I'd been feeling out of sorts for a little while, and was starting to careen into "lonely and panicked and quite miserable." And then they broke into one of their last songs, and I started to sing too, because of course a concert's much more fun if you can sing along. And what I was singing was, "Don't worry 'bout a thing, 'cause every little thing's gonna be alright." And repeating those lines over and over again started to soothe me. Saying the words myself somehow made me believe them. I calmed down, and even though the drunk asshole behind me was seriously pissing me off, I was content with my life for a little while.
I've been singing that bit to myself intermittently over the last couple days. I really, really just need to relax. I worry far too much. And somehow, everything does seems to turn out alright, eventually. I need to find a way to let go and believe that.
I've been thinking a lot yesterday and today. About me, and how I've been living my life lately. I don't know; I'm really not happy in general with how this quarter has been for me emotionally. In terms of the ways I've acted, there've been plusses and minuses. But I think I've fallen into the trap of saying, "Either feel/act this way emotionally, or pull back and stop trying to interact with people." That's bullshit. Yeah, taking risks and caring about friendships that may or may not develop the way I want them to is scary and is going to make me more unsteady than usual. But that doesn't mean I have to freak out about it, doesn't mean I have to let it fill in all the empty spaces in my time, let what other people think about me be more important than what I think about myself. I end up going in circles: decide connections are important, try to build friendships, analyze how that's going, decide it's not going so well, try to figure out how to make it work better, put pressure on every interaction, overanalyze it all... it's fucking ridiculous. I waver back and forth between quiet, passive insecurity and the 5th-grade girl's endless, "Do you like me? Do you still like me? Do you still like me?" and somehow manage to get the worst of both. I'm endlessly self-absorbed, so much so that genuine caring for others gets hopelessly tangled up in it.
It's hard, though. Because I know that making new friends is probably the part of my life I'm worst at. And most of that is because I put too much pressure on myself, overanalyze everything, think and dwell too much. But overthinking is precisely the strong reflex response I have when I'm trying to fix a problem. "Relax and don't think about it" may be something that other people can do naturally, but it's really, really hard for me in regard to anything, let alone something that's really important to my life and that I'm doing badly at. And I know that friendships should be things that flow naturally, that come into being easily and unartificially, that they're about people enjoying eachothers' company and deciding you want to do that more. But that just doesn't happen for me, not very often, anyway. And so-- unless things are going almost completely smoothly, and I'm getting all the affirmation signals I need-- trying to develop friends can really be a frustrating, painful experience for me.
One really refreshing respite to that lately has been making friends with Peter. For whatever reason, most of the typical rules don't seem to apply to him, and I somehow manage to feel comfortable around him despite not knowing him terribly well or for very long. I can spend a couple hours in his room, or all of Dillo Day talking to him (because honestly, despite the fact that we were in a group of 4-8 people most of the time, did I really talk to anyone else? no), or 2 1/2 hours straight on IM, and have fun, and not feel self-conscious or dumb or unwanted. I mean, yeah, it's mostly silly banter and random off-the-wall discussions, but whatever. It's really nice to be making a new friend and feeling happy more often than I feel lousy about it, and to remind myself that I'm not completely incompetent at interacting with people and making new friends, as long as the person is as friendly and easygoing as Peter.
I know that part of it's because when I'm talking to Peter, I get the impression that he is actually happy to be talking to me. I feel like he's probably like that with almost everybody, but it doesn't matter much. I don't need to prove myself, be constantly self-conscious. I feel at ease because it seems like he's glad we're talking and I know I'm glad we're talking and so what else do you really need? With most other people, some a lot more than others, I usually feel like the person I'm talking to would like nothing better than for me to leave them alone. Whether or not that's actually true, it's hard to feel comfortable in that situation.
There's more to it than that, though. Kyle said something the other day-- I forget the exact words-- about conversations not needing to be structured or to go perfectly unless you have an agenda for them. I guess I do really have agendas for my conversations when I'm trying to make friends, especially when I feel like my opportunities to have those conversations are limited. I go in and think, "Okay, by the end of this conversation, I need to convince this person to like me more than they did at the beginning, so that we can grow closer." That's a ridiculous mindset for anyone, let alone someone like me who panics under pressure. But it's really hard to help it. I don't have an agenda when I'm talking to Peter, though. I mean, it's not that I don't think it would be nice to get to know eachother better and talk about more substantive issues sometime. But I'm not spending my interactions with him worrying about that. And somehow that makes all the difference.
I don't know. Sometimes I feel utterly ridiculous and pathetic and like I'm about as screwed up as people get. And then, I stop and think about it, and really, everyone is pretty fucked up in one way or another. We all have big issues, and we can't seem to deal with something major in the way we know we should. We have our problems in our own totally unique ways... but honestly, if there's anyone I know who I can't think about for a minute and say, "Yeah, he/she's pretty messed up when it comes to X," I don't know them very well. It's easy to feel pathetic if everyone else seems to cope with our particular weakness far better than we do, but all of the "everyone else"s have their own problems with something else. That's just the way life works, I guess.
As we were listening to The Wailers on Saturday night, I'd been feeling out of sorts for a little while, and was starting to careen into "lonely and panicked and quite miserable." And then they broke into one of their last songs, and I started to sing too, because of course a concert's much more fun if you can sing along. And what I was singing was, "Don't worry 'bout a thing, 'cause every little thing's gonna be alright." And repeating those lines over and over again started to soothe me. Saying the words myself somehow made me believe them. I calmed down, and even though the drunk asshole behind me was seriously pissing me off, I was content with my life for a little while.
I've been singing that bit to myself intermittently over the last couple days. I really, really just need to relax. I worry far too much. And somehow, everything does seems to turn out alright, eventually. I need to find a way to let go and believe that.
Comments:
It does turn out all right! Sometimes it just takes a while and we get frustrated by all those moments when things aren't so good and we want to give up. As one who's been there, trust me, things can get better and happiness will abound.
Post a Comment
