Sofa King Awkward

Take my social life. Please. Because I’m not doing a very good job with it.

I’ve kept myself pretty isolated for a while. Most of my face to face interactions are with my son. Sure, I twitter and I have friends that I text with, but I rarely get out and meet people and talk to them in person. I decided maybe it was time to change that this year, and now I remember why I was isolating myself; because I’m a total fucking train wreck.

I am an introvert, but that shouldn’t mean I don’t know how to interact with people. I mean, I know how, but afterwards I spend so much time second guessing the things I say and do. I feel like I tell people things I shouldn’t be saying and they’ll think I’m insane, which, honestly, I kind of am. Not dangerous insane, just off my rocker insane. Add to that the fact that socializing often involves alcohol and then I really really really hate myself the next day. Even if its just text messages or twitter, I feel like I come off like a complete needy jackass.

Then add in the fact that I have a very empathetic personality (INFJ in the house). I see people struggling, upset, not feeling well, and I just want to help. I want to fix it all and make it better. Even with people (and animals) I don’t know. I tell people I want to help, I give unsolicited advice, I ask people to let me know what I can do, but then I think, “well that was pushy of me. Why did I do that? Now this person will not want to talk to me anymore.” I mean well, I really do, but I think I come off all wrong in trying to express it.

So when I do these things, when I feel like I overshared, or I pushed too hard with the caring, and then I don’t hear from someone for a while, it just emphasizes that feeling of not being good enough that I’m already struggling with. That feeling that I’m not worthy of anyones time or attention. And I get that people are busy, and most of them have other people in their lives and jobs, but I still doubt myself to the point that my brain goes on this loop of things I feel I did wrong, and how I’ve alienated everyone, and I end up with massive anxiety. I don’t tell people that I’m feeling or thinking these things because I don’t want them to think I blame them for the messed up things my brain tells me.

I give compliments and then immediately wonder if they’re out of line. Then I wonder if I should let the person know I meant what I said in the nicest way, but I know I should just back the fuck off. But backing off is hard when you’re already feeling pretty lonely and bad enough about yourself and can’t stand the idea of someone hating you because you were trying to be nice. How much does that idea suck? Oh, and don’t even get me started on my bizarre sense of humor, because that’s another entire dissertation.

It’s a really vicious cycle that I throw myself into. I think I need to move somewhere far away from everyone, or at least get a certificate saying I’m an official train wreck that I can show to people when I meet them so they don’t have to wonder “what the fuck is her deal?”

Advertisements

Oh, hey, no big surprise here

I haven’t updated this in ages. Again. I’ve been too busy having a mid-life crisis.

It’s not just the getting older part, but it’s also a major identity crisis as well which is bleeding over into everything else, including blogging (which, no real surprise, I wrote about last year). I know I want to rename the damn thing, but that is proving to be more difficult to do than I thought it would be. WordPress doesn’t make changing your domain exactly straight forward, so I’m debating whether I should buy a domain somewhere else and link it or whatever you call it.

Right, getting off track.

I’m having an identity crisis, have been for a while. It’s not that surprising when you look at how my life has unfolded over the past 24 years. I spent the first five years of Zachs’ life being a stay at home mom, basically (posthumas thanks to my parents for the help with that. I would not trade those years for anything). When he started school, I went back to college. I thought I had a straight path planned out but I let myself get derailed, probably because I wasn’t super enthusiastic about dental hygiene. Then I left my bachelors program because my mom wasn’t really well enough to care of Zach while I worked during the day and went to school at night. Worked a series of jobs I had little enthusiasm for. Sure, I’m capable of being an office zombie/assistant, but the last job was SO bad, it just kind of murdered my spirit. Then my mom got sick. Broke up with my fiancé. Then my grandmother died. Then my dad got sick. Then my mom got worse. Then my dad got sick again. Then my mom died. Then my dad was a miserable SOB who couldn’t be left alone until he got sick again and died. I think I’ve told that story, though.

So here I am, with no real job, no real skills, no useful degree, and no real idea what I want to do (other than get the hell out of Florida, and travel). I’m still trying to get everything settled with my parents estates (can at least say that is in motion, though). Add to that the realization that I’m getting older, my son is grown up, and I don’t have many friends to spend time with. I’m still very single and not showing any prospects of that changing, plus the crippling feeling that I don’t really have anything to offer anyone even if I did meet someone (a feeling which someone was “kind” enough to confirm for me recently, is true). In order to try to keep my head above water, I’ve been on what I like to call a “booze and bad decisions binge.” I go through these every once in a while, usually when my life is thrown into some sort of chaos, especially if that chaos leaves me with choices I have to make. So I just drink until I’ve had enough to make a bad decision, do something stupid, and then I’m left thinking, “oh god what the fuck did I just do??” followed by “well, at least I made a damn decision!” Sure, sometimes I have fun, and I often surprise myself, but it’s not always in a good way.

My mind is a very confusing place to be, and considering how much time I spend there isolating myself from other people because I don’t feel good enough or like I deserve friendship/love/companionship/all that stuff, I suspect I will be certifiable maybe by the end of the year? I’ll set up a P.O. box or something so people can send me comfy pajamas for when they lock me up with the other crazies.