|| (pity party)

There is something between me and the others here that is serving as a serious barrier from making connections. It's getting beyond disheartening. It's getting hopeless.

I do things with others. I actually do a lot of things with others. But I'm still not as social as everyone else here and maybe that's where the problem really lies. I don't want to go out and do stuff every single day. But it seems as though if I don't then I'm missing out on serious time with everyone which must mean I don't want to be anyone's friend.

It doesn't help when my roommates talk about me with others in our living room when I'm just a room over and can easily hear their conversation.

I'm feeling ostracized and lonely. I feel like my efforts are incredibly worthless. I'm not making those connections.

For example, my research partner, Heidi, and I get along great. We have similar interests and like to explore Seattle together. We seriously have everything in place for being the best of friends. But even with all the time we spend together and the fun things we do I still haven't quite found that connection. I finally found someone who enjoys the same music and activities I enjoy, someone who wants to go to shows and walk around downtown, and I'm having an incredibly difficult time making that connection.

I feel like I'm right on top of it. This is a weird analogy but it's what came to mind. I feel like that connection is like a ball of dough wrapped in plastic wrap. I can knead the dough, do the things friends should do together, but I can't make the bread, form the relationship, without taking off the stupid plastic wrap and I CAN'T TAKE OFF THE STUPID PLASTIC WRAP. I don't even know what the plastic wrap is.

In other news, I've decided I'm not going to serve a mission. Moving out to Seattle has been a good experience for me because it's reminded me of the fragility of my mental and emotional capabilities. It's been so hard for me moving here. It could be better. It's not what I imagined. I'm doing all the things I planned on doing and I'm spending more time with people that aren't Brenden than I've probably done all of last year. And I'm not happy. It's been difficult and it's really made me think about what this means for me. What does it mean for my ability to move away for graduate school? Am I even capable of handling graduate school? What does it mean for my depression? Is it coming back? Did it ever really go away? Do I need professional help, medication? What does it mean for next semester when I'm back at BYU and Brenden isn't there because he's on a mission and Missy isn't around because she's in DC and Carly isn't around because she's married? Why is it so impossible for me to make new connections when I'm putting forth the effort? Other relationships just seemed to happen. I don't know what it is. I want to be friends with these people. I really do.

//

I'm one of those people who think conversation is necessary when people are in close proximity. Except that I'm incredibly shy. When I don't know people very well, especially in large groups, I CANNOT talk to people. This makes for intense discomfort, even pain at times, on my part. And I am keenly aware of this discomfort and pain. Keenly aware. I'm not sure what this means for me and making friends. I watch people trying to figure out what it is that they do. How they talk to people so naturally. I simply can't figure out how they talk to each other so easily. I feel like I know the people on my team well enough to hold a decent conversation about things we may have in common and yet anytime I try to say anything in a casual manner, I end up feeling incredibly awkward and almost robotic. I try laughing when people make jokes just so they know I'm still there. And even then, I disappear because everyone else is laughing and their laughter is louder than mine because they are genuinely happy and not just pretending to be so people will remember their presence.

I realized how much of a problem this was when the thought of seriously googling "how to make friends" ran through my head (Big Bang Theory, anyone?). I think it's all part of self-esteem issues that I didn't realize I still had when I was in the comfort of Provo with already established friendships. When I'm sitting in the car with Brenden I barely breathe because I'm talking so much. Here I offer the front seat to anyone else riding in the car because I know I will just end up awkwardly sitting there hoping people don't notice my lack of contribution to the conversation. At least in the backseat I'm not literally in the middle of the conversation. Sometimes I actually wonder if I have any opinions or care about anything. At all. Ever.

I'm having thoughts I haven't had in a long, long time. And then I doubt my ability to serve a mission without having another breakdown. I think I think too much. Even when I was little, I wrote in my journal that I think too much. I think it really only becomes a problem when I feel I can't talk to anyone about anything. My thoughts collect in my mind and I can't get them out. I think about writing things down and then I'm afraid paper will betray and people will see that I'm a very sad girl who actually thinks a lot more than she lets on. I'm afraid people will leave me. Right now people don't care about who I am. I don't get in anyone's way, I don't necessarily contribute but I don't hurt people either. I'm just there. And because that's good enough for others I realize that even if I made extended efforts to talk and be sociable it really doesn't even matter.