I got to see many friends today. I don’t see them often, but when I do, it’s guaranteed good times no matter what my mood happens to be doing when I arrive on the scene. And I say scene because with this group, there is no shortage of innocent shenanigans (that are loaded with innuendoes because we are a bunch of large, awkward children…and I love us).
It’s usually turbulent going in. Who am I kidding…it’s always exactly that. I go into the situation bracing for all of the social contact that’s going to happen; acknowledging my social anxiety and forcing myself through it. Because these are my people. We’re all doing the same thing on some level…in our own ways with our own methods for coping. The trepidation is there, followed by awkwardness, followed by <insert your choice of consciousness altering substance here>…and then we just jive. It’s the biggest group of chillest, silliest dorks. It’s SO big, that there are many different subsections of the group…anyway, we are a cross-section of so many different types that we never quite seem able to encompass everyone for one reason or another.
So far, this post is just me gushing about my friends, and honestly not even just those I saw tonight. All my friends. They are additional chosen family members. If I make any effort to speak to you or like your posts on Facebook then consider yourself in, because I am generally very closed off. For someone with such fortifications surrounding her, I sure have a lot of chosen kin. And like I said, I love them all.
The above writing is borne of the kind of intense feelings that come from being an extreme feeler. The flipside of this is: when I haven’t seen or spoken with anyone in a while I assume everyone hates me and I should probably die.
Yep! Mental illness at its finest. It’s illogical – in fact, I’m quite certain that it’s pure emotion. Needless to say (I’mma say it anyway): I like this euphoric side of the coin better than the dark, depressive one.
The goal here is to find a happy medium. The grey area. To strike balance, as I have mentioned before.
Ideally, I would like to have more of the lovey, gooey feelings. I have been very poor at friendship due to a persistent lack of self-worth. I have trudged through a slurry of naysayers; people who have put me down and discouraged me. I have taken in a lot of outward impressions and adopted them. I assume that’s why I tend to be efficient at self-criticism. I have had to cope…and, as it turns out, being able to criticise oneself is a useful skill – as long as one follows up with and enacts a solution without dwelling on the criticism.
I no longer make time for naysayers. Actually, I think it’s more like not being forced to attend school in a building full of ass holes anymore. Almost the same thing…
Anyway, I choose my supportive counterparts. I always have, but now I ACTIVELY choose them.
I have been so very passive in all aspects of my life thus far. It’s something that had to change, no matter how scary change can be. Owning my experience has been so gratifying, and it’s something that requires constant diligence so it’s definitely not boring!
My biggest hope at this moment is that the momentum increases rather than falls to the wayside, as it has in the past. I feel as though my life is progressing in a good way…my compass seems to be orienting somewhere vaguely toward North…and while the road is zig-zaggy and I happen to drag myself along it like an intoxicated sloth is not the point. The point is: I have started moving…and in this particular metaphor, the sloth could perceivably become a cheetah if the sloth was so inclined and worked hard enough.
Okay…that defies SO MUCH science, but it’s my analogy and I’m sticking to it. See that, experience? I’m owning you.
Also: sloths are awesome.