Saturday, January 08, 2005
Loneliness & Insecurity
I guess I'm going to start off this post with an apology--two, actually. First, I'm sorry this is technically late! I haven't gone to sleep yet, so it still feels like Friday (the fourth day since my last post), but technically it's already Saturday, and therefore late.
Anyway, my second apology is a bit more serious. I apologize because this post is basically an act of emotional-relational cowardice. It's totally not right for me to be writing about my feelings about a friendship here instead of talking to the person directly, but I don't have enough courage to bring it up in person, and I really need to get it out of my system. I guess I'm kind of hoping that somehow that person will read this or be directed to it so I won't have to say things directly but they'll still know how I feel. At the same time though, I'm not really sure if I want to tell the person, so the possibility that the person may not even find out through this is also appealing. It's kind of complicated, and I don't know if any one is still following me at this point.
But yeah, where to start? I guess the heart of the matter is the issue of wanting love. It's a natural feeling, I guess, but in some ways I feel guilty about wanting to feel loved because shouldn't God's love be enough? Shouldn't I want to love other people instead of looking for love for myself? This is something I really started struggling with between grade seven and eight--my "low self-esteem days." In a lot of ways I got over the phase, but I know I still carry around a lot of insecurities, and wondering if anyone actually cares about me is definitely the biggest.
The specific thing that made me want to blog about it here? Well, I've always been the type to feel loneliest in a crowd of people, but in the past couple of years I've discovered that living with someone who's really outgoing and has a lot of friends and is constantly going out with them makes me feel really alone and isolated--you know, when she's always going out with mutual friends and I'm just at home. I mean, before I often made the choice to stay home rather than going out, but it's different when you're in the same house and it's mutual friends and you're not presented with the option of choosing whether or not you'd like to go because you're not actually invited.
Okay, so that's pretty vague. Maybe if I tell you the specific "incident" that spurred me to write this, my meaning might become more clear. So I was waiting for the JOY meeting to end so we could go home, and they come out and she tells me: "we're going to Master's steakhouse. I know I have class tomorrow so I'll try not to be too late (she knows I call to remind her not to stay out too late when she's got stuff to do the next day)." I didn't say anything--I never say anything--but it really hurt my feelings not to be invited.
I know that I could go and everyone'd be cool with that, but because of my insecurity, I'm the type of person who needs to be invited. I've actually invited myself along a time or two, and like I said, people were happy to have me, but I absolutely hated having to ask if I could go along. Though they don't mind or are even happy to have me go out with them, that's not really the point, you know? The fact that no one initially asked me to go just makes me feel really insignificant--that I could be left out, forgotten, so easily. I mean, Alan asked Arthur if he wanted to go. It's bad, I know, but the fact that these are church people, people I've been "friends" with for longer than she has just adds another level of hurt.
And I know a lot of that is my own fault since a while ago they used to always ask me, and I was struggling with a lot of stuff so I always said no. I mean, it's understandable that they'd get into the habit of assuming that I'm not interested in going, but at the same time I can't help but feel hurt that they stopped making the effort to include me.
I HATE FEELING THIS WAY. It makes me feel like such a needy, emotionally unstable jerk. I mean, is it really such a big deal, not being asked? Do I really need a special invitation to hang out? It shouldn't be a big deal. I never make it a big deal--except inside. I hate being so oversensitive about feeling excluded. It makes me feel high maintenance, and I've always been disdainful of high maintenance people! And I hate that I'm too--I don't know what!--to just them how I've been feeling.
Today, with the Master's Steak thing, for example, before they left I tried to hint that I might be interested in going. I asked my friend if they were just going to be talking about JOY stuff. Again, it's my own fault for not just being straightforward, but she clearly didn't get the hint that I would like to be invited, so that was that. Well, I asked Hubert where the Master's is, and he told me I should just go, but ultimately the fact that no one had asked me to go won out over my desire to spend some time hanging out with everyone. And all the while I was telling myself on the drive home that I was okay with it, that it was better for me to go home and sleep early since I'm tutoring in the morning, I just couldn't stop the tears from coming out--I hate crying!
I know I should just tell people how I feel, but then isn't that defeating the whole point? I mean, I don't want to be invited to things because people don't want me to feel left out--I want to be invited because being invited means that people care enough to want to include me.
And that's where cowardice and this post come in. It's the easy way out, since unless people comment, I won't know if anyone's actually read it. So people can find out how I feel, and invite me more in response to this--but it'll be okay because I won't know that they're doing it out of pity/guilt/whatever feelings this post arousess. I'm using this blog to avoid the real vulnerability of telling people my needs. And with my small group talking about community this past term, I know that the lack of such openness and vulnerability is what contributes to the dysfunctionality of communities. No one can read minds (except God) so it's unfair of me to keep wishing that people would be sensitive to my feelings and needs when I haven't shared them with anyone!
*sigh* Throw in a bit of guilt that I'm so needy of people's attention/care in the first place (I feel like God's love should be all that I need) and you get the type of messy emotional situation that inspires blog posts like this. And believe me, this is barely scratching the surface of my feelings and thoughts on the subject of this loneliness/insecurity.
So why did I write this here? Well, I do feel better having said it, gotten it out. It's all weird though, because I want to let people know how I'm feeling, but at the same time I want to keep it private. Like I kind of talked about earlier, blogging is a good medium for that because it's online, so there's the possibility of others reading it, but it's not as direct or specific as face-to-face, phone, or even email communication, so there's also the possiblity that no one else will read it. So although a blog is a public thing, it also gives the illusion of privacy. And I don't know if that's a good thing, or a dangerous thing.
I guess I'm going to start off this post with an apology--two, actually. First, I'm sorry this is technically late! I haven't gone to sleep yet, so it still feels like Friday (the fourth day since my last post), but technically it's already Saturday, and therefore late.
Anyway, my second apology is a bit more serious. I apologize because this post is basically an act of emotional-relational cowardice. It's totally not right for me to be writing about my feelings about a friendship here instead of talking to the person directly, but I don't have enough courage to bring it up in person, and I really need to get it out of my system. I guess I'm kind of hoping that somehow that person will read this or be directed to it so I won't have to say things directly but they'll still know how I feel. At the same time though, I'm not really sure if I want to tell the person, so the possibility that the person may not even find out through this is also appealing. It's kind of complicated, and I don't know if any one is still following me at this point.
But yeah, where to start? I guess the heart of the matter is the issue of wanting love. It's a natural feeling, I guess, but in some ways I feel guilty about wanting to feel loved because shouldn't God's love be enough? Shouldn't I want to love other people instead of looking for love for myself? This is something I really started struggling with between grade seven and eight--my "low self-esteem days." In a lot of ways I got over the phase, but I know I still carry around a lot of insecurities, and wondering if anyone actually cares about me is definitely the biggest.
The specific thing that made me want to blog about it here? Well, I've always been the type to feel loneliest in a crowd of people, but in the past couple of years I've discovered that living with someone who's really outgoing and has a lot of friends and is constantly going out with them makes me feel really alone and isolated--you know, when she's always going out with mutual friends and I'm just at home. I mean, before I often made the choice to stay home rather than going out, but it's different when you're in the same house and it's mutual friends and you're not presented with the option of choosing whether or not you'd like to go because you're not actually invited.
Okay, so that's pretty vague. Maybe if I tell you the specific "incident" that spurred me to write this, my meaning might become more clear. So I was waiting for the JOY meeting to end so we could go home, and they come out and she tells me: "we're going to Master's steakhouse. I know I have class tomorrow so I'll try not to be too late (she knows I call to remind her not to stay out too late when she's got stuff to do the next day)." I didn't say anything--I never say anything--but it really hurt my feelings not to be invited.
I know that I could go and everyone'd be cool with that, but because of my insecurity, I'm the type of person who needs to be invited. I've actually invited myself along a time or two, and like I said, people were happy to have me, but I absolutely hated having to ask if I could go along. Though they don't mind or are even happy to have me go out with them, that's not really the point, you know? The fact that no one initially asked me to go just makes me feel really insignificant--that I could be left out, forgotten, so easily. I mean, Alan asked Arthur if he wanted to go. It's bad, I know, but the fact that these are church people, people I've been "friends" with for longer than she has just adds another level of hurt.
And I know a lot of that is my own fault since a while ago they used to always ask me, and I was struggling with a lot of stuff so I always said no. I mean, it's understandable that they'd get into the habit of assuming that I'm not interested in going, but at the same time I can't help but feel hurt that they stopped making the effort to include me.
I HATE FEELING THIS WAY. It makes me feel like such a needy, emotionally unstable jerk. I mean, is it really such a big deal, not being asked? Do I really need a special invitation to hang out? It shouldn't be a big deal. I never make it a big deal--except inside. I hate being so oversensitive about feeling excluded. It makes me feel high maintenance, and I've always been disdainful of high maintenance people! And I hate that I'm too--I don't know what!--to just them how I've been feeling.
Today, with the Master's Steak thing, for example, before they left I tried to hint that I might be interested in going. I asked my friend if they were just going to be talking about JOY stuff. Again, it's my own fault for not just being straightforward, but she clearly didn't get the hint that I would like to be invited, so that was that. Well, I asked Hubert where the Master's is, and he told me I should just go, but ultimately the fact that no one had asked me to go won out over my desire to spend some time hanging out with everyone. And all the while I was telling myself on the drive home that I was okay with it, that it was better for me to go home and sleep early since I'm tutoring in the morning, I just couldn't stop the tears from coming out--I hate crying!
I know I should just tell people how I feel, but then isn't that defeating the whole point? I mean, I don't want to be invited to things because people don't want me to feel left out--I want to be invited because being invited means that people care enough to want to include me.
And that's where cowardice and this post come in. It's the easy way out, since unless people comment, I won't know if anyone's actually read it. So people can find out how I feel, and invite me more in response to this--but it'll be okay because I won't know that they're doing it out of pity/guilt/whatever feelings this post arousess. I'm using this blog to avoid the real vulnerability of telling people my needs. And with my small group talking about community this past term, I know that the lack of such openness and vulnerability is what contributes to the dysfunctionality of communities. No one can read minds (except God) so it's unfair of me to keep wishing that people would be sensitive to my feelings and needs when I haven't shared them with anyone!
*sigh* Throw in a bit of guilt that I'm so needy of people's attention/care in the first place (I feel like God's love should be all that I need) and you get the type of messy emotional situation that inspires blog posts like this. And believe me, this is barely scratching the surface of my feelings and thoughts on the subject of this loneliness/insecurity.
So why did I write this here? Well, I do feel better having said it, gotten it out. It's all weird though, because I want to let people know how I'm feeling, but at the same time I want to keep it private. Like I kind of talked about earlier, blogging is a good medium for that because it's online, so there's the possibility of others reading it, but it's not as direct or specific as face-to-face, phone, or even email communication, so there's also the possiblity that no one else will read it. So although a blog is a public thing, it also gives the illusion of privacy. And I don't know if that's a good thing, or a dangerous thing.
