do i exist when nobody's looking? part of me is afraid i don't, i think. it's why i posted so often to talk.bizarre and why i now post so much to livejournal. look at me! i'm here! don't forget about me! here i am!
it was only when naomi_traveller
told me so a few months ago that i realized -- i've become an actual recluse. i avoid social situations. i spend every minute i can at home alone. i go to the same stores, the same restaurants, clinging desperately to the familiar and safe. on my own initiative, i rarely try anything new. god only knows what dangers might lurk in the depths of a seemingly innocent little bistro. i don't like my apartment filthy, but as long as it is, i have an excuse not to let anyone in. this may in some way be a metaphor for my current mental state.
what am i so afraid of? rejection. humiliation. pain. pure and simple. maybe i'll be dressed wrong and they'll throw me out. maybe i'll stumble into a private party and be humiliated. maybe i'll try to talk to someone cute and they'll blow me off. maybe i'll think i've made a friend and they'll betray me. maybe i'll stand in the wrong line and the world will come to a catastrophic end. maybe i'll fall in love and -- god, i can't even think about the swirling mass of horrifying what-ifs there. what if they turn out to be married? what if they're only in it for the sex? what if they're another passive-aggressive control freak, or a borderline sociopath, or a drunk, or they hit me? what if they're a spineless parasite or a condescending autocrat or the sort of lazy-ass lover who wants me to be on top all the time because he can't be arsed to put in the effort otherwise?
and god, what happens if they're into me
and i'm not into them
? the last couple of times that happened, i got stalked. what if they intrude on my space and i'm too cowardly to tell them to back off? what if i end up feeling obligated to rub their greasy zit-covered back because i was too much of a wimp to tell them to stop rubbing mine? what if they hang out down on the corner all the time so they know when i leave in the morning and come back in the evening? what if they call me 20 times a day and just breathe into the phone?
the world is fraught with danger. best to stay home and keep to myself. people have, on the whole, been more trouble than they were worth for me, barring a few wonderful exceptions.
i'm supposed to be going out and meeting new people and doing new things. it's therapy. it's good for me. eventually, i hope i'll build enough trust to make real friends, have real relationships, feel comfortable in my skin and in the world.
even thinking about it scares me shitless.
i'd just like to take this moment to say a rousing "FUCK YOU" to the people who made me what i am today: emotional bonsai, stunted and trained and starved for space, constantly having my new green shoots pinched off, being viewed as an oddity by those around me.