You know, the thing with a sporadic update schedule is that you sometimes miss the big occasions - even a first anniversary is as exciting as any other! I still haven't really found a 'purpose' for this particular venture, as such, but it keeps me sane - just.
Lately, things have been... Well, not great. I've had awful block, terrible depression, a straight up inability to sleep, and become almost a fixed point around which my moods swing and emotions wildly oscillate, which is more tiring than anything else. Through it all though, I've managed to keep going; perhaps at a less than even keel but still... I know that I'm indestructible. It isn't easy feeling like you don't belong, especially when you thought you'd left that sensation behind in the toilet that was my second year at University. It's difficult to explain, even with several thousand words left ahead of us here and now, because the contexts are often so sensitive. People I love and care about very deeply often bear the brunt of an unhappy man who simply feels lost a lot of the time. I'm sure one day we'll all look back on this and laugh, heartily and loudly, laughing genuinely at the quarter-life crisis of someone who probably just doesn't get enough fibre in his diet (come on, it has to boil down to something that ridiculous). Even today had its own great episode!
Failure hangs heavy in the air this afternoon in particular. I can't really remember the last time I legitimately asked somebody out on a date before this afternoon, but that day, lost as it is to the ages and cobwebbed chambers of my memory was also the last time I got a successful answer. I know, I know; you're thinking that this shouldn't really be a problem. I shouldn't really be getting upset about this. Not really. I feel the same way, it's quite disappointing getting hung up on so simple a hook, but... It's a real drain, actually. I have problems, as we know, intuiting social cues, body language, facial expression, basic human communication. A lot don't believe me because I seem to get on quite well. The awful truth is that I don't, and just because I don't look like I'm searching for the nearest and most convenient exit while I'm basically anywhere is because I've normally already worked it out ahead of time. It's extremely difficult for me to engage on an emotionally stable and socially relaxed level at any time, so have a heart.
It's not as if I haven't had dates in the past either, to say otherwise would be to do a very great disservice to a good few (but not many) young ladies. Usually, there are patterns that I am finally recognising, patterns that I seem to fall into time after time. Being attracted to someone makes me extremely nervous, and the control of such nerves soon becomes completely impossible, which makes social interaction a nightmare - I usually talk too fast and can get quite sarcastic without even really meaning to, which normally leads to nobody quite being able to understand the other. It's also a huge effort, especially factoring in the low margin of success, in thinking of the right thing to say, and finding the right time and nothing ever seems to happen properly and I end up coming away very bitter and angry at myself for even trying. Why bother, if that's all I have to look forward to?
Most of the time, I just stop myself. Is this a good idea? Is it really? Won't I scare this person off with my mania and my anxieties, my gaping character flaws? Normally, I say yes, of course I will. Could you imagine? What would we talk about? What would we do? How long would it be until the inevitable, crushing rejection? There are some rejections that secretly, I have never recovered from, and the prospect of any in the future honestly frightens me. There have been those who used me to make themselves feel better, those whose affections have soured faster than those sherbet lemons I always carry around (just in case!), those who are so precious, those who have known but never believed, those who have never known, and those who never will. That and I don't really have a plan if I ask anyone and they say yes anymore - I hardly know what flight of fancy lead me into the latest swatting but I somehow decided it would be a good idea, almost on the spot. I say swatting, but it was all very gentle; for all that frustration in being refused I kind of had no outlet as one must stay magnanimous, no matter how awful and dejected and useless actually hearing "no" made me feel. I understand that wasn't the intention at all but it doesn't stop it from hurting. Like when you accidentally staple your thumb.
It's all back to square one though. Straight back to the foot of the heap, a mountain of a mole hill of self worth and self esteem. There's always something in me that keeps trying, keeps pushing - I've never truly learned to give up yet, which has its upsides and its down. Sometimes I feel sick, I feel like it's killing me but... I don't know. At least I still feel! They say that you only regret the things that you didn't do, after all. Oy.
I'm sure I've published better, and hopefully I will again; forgive me for bending your ear with tales of ponderous woe. All's fair in love and war, and we all know I'm spoiling for a fight most of the time anyway. Hopefully I can move past the latest in a series of severe creative blocks and write something you might even enjoy reading! That'd be nice.
NEXT TIME on ASW... William Shatner's THE TRANSFORMED MAN, Alan Shore as my Aspergers hero, and just who am I carrying sherbet lemons around for? And why? Isn't it obvious?!
No comments:
Post a Comment