I’m distant. If you know me, this is no fucking
newsflash. I don’t really have a problem connecting with people so much as staying connected with people. I’ve
spilled a lot of proverbial ink on this and why it might be. In a nutshell, low
self-worth, anxiety, moving around so much as to never develop very strong
connections, etc. Plus I much prefer face to face interaction and, well, with
being in constant pain, I just don’t leave the house much. This is less to
explain or excuse myself, but to show some work I’m putting in.
So I have an online friend. A very lovely online friend
of recent acquaintance. We talk a lot, and in the short time I’ve known her, I’ve
grown to value her counsel and perspective. We hit it off and fell into a fairly
easy, fairly regular discourse. It was nice.
After a month or two, she pointed out that I essentially
never say hi first. I gave her my pat explanation that it’s just sort of how I
am, and that, while it might not look like it, I am grateful for her contacting
me and our continued discussion. At this point, most people don’t press. But
then, most people would simply fall back to interacting with me on Facebook, or
take an “I’ll see you when I see you” attitude. But I’d never see her at
Shadowland as she lives across the country, and she’d never see me on Facebook
because she loathes it. So the ball would be entirely in her court to carry the
weight and pace of our friendship.
I know this is unfair. I know this is basically the spot
that I’m in with most of my friends. I know this is why I am rather isolated. I
let it happen anyway.
But she asked me to bear some of the emotional labor
burden. She was… not optimistic. She wasn’t wrong to be so, frankly. However,
the next day, I messaged her. And then again soon after. It feels fucked up to
me. Unnatural. Like being aware of my blinking or breathing. It feels forced.
Because it is. Not the relationship or the ensuing conversations - those are perfectly
fine. But the reaching out feels messed up to me.
So of course I had to analyze the shit out of it.
Ultimately, I feel grateful for the time, effort, and
attention that anyone wants to bestow on me, and I hate feeling like I’m asking
for more. Contacting someone feels like asking for more. As such, I sit like a
fucking barnacle (not bragging about penis size, but read into it what you
will) and wait for the world to check in on me. NOT because I want everyone else
to expend their emotional labor, but because I ultimately feel like me saying “hi”
is me trying to take from a person.
I know. I KNOW. When other people reach out and
spontaneously say hi to me or check up on me, I view it as a near mystical
gift. When I do the same, I view it as some horrible, needy ploy for love. I
KNOW this is stupid. Many people profess to like me, for no conceivable reason
than that they, in fact, like me. They would probably like it if I bestowed
that mystical gift upon them. It might, in fact, be WILDLY SELFISH of me to not
repay their consideration in kind.
Okay. So it’s that self-image thing. All I have to do to
start connecting with people more is to stop viewing myself as poisonous.
Gotcha.
I can’t imagine that there’s a level of empirical evidence
that will make me feel like I’m desired as a friend, lover, etc. So it has to
be me. Something inside. I have to begin the internal work, likely the seismic
shift, of trying to view myself as a benefit to others’ lives. I have to start
trusting that when people say nice things about me, they aren’t trying to manipulate
me for some future betrayal or abuse. That people actually want me around. That
maybe, if I say hi to a person, they won’t be annoyed or rethink why they ever
pretended to be friends with me in the first place. I have to purge these
shitty worst case scenarios.
I have to somehow find my way through nearly four decades
of viewing myself as some sort of leper, constantly falling apart and infecting
everyone close to me.
Or maybe it’s as simple as putting in the emotional
labor? I know it’s just saying “hi.” It’s typing two letters. But the scenarios
that spin out in my head bore a hole right through my chest. I literally begin having
trouble breathing at the thought.
I mean Jesus Christ, my last lover of two and a half
years - I couldn’t just ask her how she was doing. I had to search the internet
for a funny meme to bring to her like a male bird bringing a gift for the
female to incorporate into her nest. I viewed myself as having such little
value to her (or anyone) that I couldn’t possibly imagine a world in which my acknowledging
a person could be seen as beneficial.
Okay. End of the day, I know what I have to work on. I
mean, self-image, that’s nothing new. But this is a new, specific application
of it that I’ve contextualized for myself and with a specific set of actions I
can at least fake until I make. I like people. I like talking to people. Sure,
I need to disconnect often, but that’s normal. I’ve let my leg keep me stuck in
my house, so I need to compensate somehow, so texting it is, despite how
uncomfortable it makes me. I’m unhappy with the situation, so I need to change
it. Simple enough.
All I have to do is not think I’m worthless.
Under construction.
