I'm totally back in high school. The neverending blows to the self-esteem that had me running home from school to my room to cry most nights. I know, really, in the long run, that this year isn't the be-all and end all of my life, but I watch the circles of friends around me and I'm not quite in the loop with any of them...
I realize this blog must read like I'm manic-depressive or something, but there are highs and lows in everyone's life, and for me writing is cathartic. I suppose I could keep a private notebook or something of the sort, but there are events and emotional responses that I do want to convey to people, and I don't want to edit myself and pretend that I'm something or someone that I'm not. And quite frankly, if I just wrote factually about what I did each day, it would be boring as all hell...
I'm constantly comparing myself to the people around me - I'm not the most garrulous person around and don't feel the need to talk all the time, and I'm constantly censoring myself out of sheer shyness, but my silence gets mistaken for unfriendliness or lack of interest and I'm left out because people assume I'm not interested, and I don't know how to change that. I'm not a supermodel, sure, but I'm not ugly. I'm not the wittiest person around, but I'm smart. I'm not a party animal, by any means, but that doesn't mean I won't hit the bars for a few drinks.
N&C are best of friends. They were hanging out again last night and having an absolute blast, just two doors down from me and I knew nothing of it. I know three's a crowd, but why the hell am I always #3?
To top that off, S. asked if I was coming out on Sunday. "Sunday?" I asked. I hadn't heard about Sunday. In short, someone either didn't bother asking me if I was even remotely interested in having a night out with people on Sunday. I mean, I'll be in Wales and wouldn't be able to anyway, but the fact that I wasn't asked and there were obviously plans being made... ouch.
I can't even manage to find one good friend in 8 months in a new country. I just want someone on this side of the ocean that knows that my silence _doesn't_ mean lack of interest. I want someone I can just watch a football game with and who doesn't expect me to keep up a constant stream of chatter. I want to be able to tell someone here that I'm homesick and have them _listen_ and not judge me a wimp. I was hurt so often by 'friends' when I was younger that I've built up this wall and only a very select few manage to get behind it. I wish I could drop the wall. I wish I could develop some of the self-confidence I'm so desperately lacking.
I will pick up. I will move on. I will get over this. But in the meantime I needed to write about it and get it off my chest. And I'm glad you are all there to read and thank-you all for caring. It's people like you who have saved me on a regular basis.
*Ironically enough, in the six or so hours since I originally wrote this, I've had a good night at bells with the gals and am feeling much better about life, the universe and everything*
I Am Reading
Academically: A true reporte of the death & martyrdome of M. Campion Iesuite and preiste, & M. Sherwin, & M. Bryan preistes, at Tiborne the first of December 1581.
For Fun: The Constant Princess
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: 8. 3 read, 5 unread.
I realize this blog must read like I'm manic-depressive or something, but there are highs and lows in everyone's life, and for me writing is cathartic. I suppose I could keep a private notebook or something of the sort, but there are events and emotional responses that I do want to convey to people, and I don't want to edit myself and pretend that I'm something or someone that I'm not. And quite frankly, if I just wrote factually about what I did each day, it would be boring as all hell...
"Woke up at 8:15 this morning. Took a bloody long time getting ready, as usual, and was out the door around 9:40. Went to the library. Read two tracts on executions from the sixteenth century. Met my classmates (including BEB) for lunch. Ate lunch at Alcuin and had homemade cake that N and C made for dessert. Wandered over to Langwith where I had to give a presentation, as did BEB. Presentation went fairly well. Spoke briefly to S and to J who attended presentation. Walked home with N & C. Am writing this blog, will be going to bells this evening."See, told you, boring.
I'm constantly comparing myself to the people around me - I'm not the most garrulous person around and don't feel the need to talk all the time, and I'm constantly censoring myself out of sheer shyness, but my silence gets mistaken for unfriendliness or lack of interest and I'm left out because people assume I'm not interested, and I don't know how to change that. I'm not a supermodel, sure, but I'm not ugly. I'm not the wittiest person around, but I'm smart. I'm not a party animal, by any means, but that doesn't mean I won't hit the bars for a few drinks.
N&C are best of friends. They were hanging out again last night and having an absolute blast, just two doors down from me and I knew nothing of it. I know three's a crowd, but why the hell am I always #3?
To top that off, S. asked if I was coming out on Sunday. "Sunday?" I asked. I hadn't heard about Sunday. In short, someone either didn't bother asking me if I was even remotely interested in having a night out with people on Sunday. I mean, I'll be in Wales and wouldn't be able to anyway, but the fact that I wasn't asked and there were obviously plans being made... ouch.
I can't even manage to find one good friend in 8 months in a new country. I just want someone on this side of the ocean that knows that my silence _doesn't_ mean lack of interest. I want someone I can just watch a football game with and who doesn't expect me to keep up a constant stream of chatter. I want to be able to tell someone here that I'm homesick and have them _listen_ and not judge me a wimp. I was hurt so often by 'friends' when I was younger that I've built up this wall and only a very select few manage to get behind it. I wish I could drop the wall. I wish I could develop some of the self-confidence I'm so desperately lacking.
I will pick up. I will move on. I will get over this. But in the meantime I needed to write about it and get it off my chest. And I'm glad you are all there to read and thank-you all for caring. It's people like you who have saved me on a regular basis.
*Ironically enough, in the six or so hours since I originally wrote this, I've had a good night at bells with the gals and am feeling much better about life, the universe and everything*
I Am Reading
Academically: A true reporte of the death & martyrdome of M. Campion Iesuite and preiste, & M. Sherwin, & M. Bryan preistes, at Tiborne the first of December 1581.
For Fun: The Constant Princess
Pile of Books on my Windowsill: 8. 3 read, 5 unread.
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High school sucked. When I was there I had a teacher who told me that his high school years were the best time in his life, and if he had it to do over, he'd relive those four years over and over and over... which at the time was depressing to hear... the worst thing to tell someone struggling through the trials of high school.
And that's what I think about it.