The Truth About My Antisocial Nature
Sometimes it’s hard to explain what’s going on with me. Some nights I don’t fall asleep, I just lay in bed and let my mind worry until I am too exhausted to continue on. Those nights lead to days of anger. I don’t know why I am angry, maybe its just because it’s easier to be angry than to accept that I’m broken. I want to run away from responsibilities, find somewhere to hide from the fear that follows me everywhere I go. I play off my problems like I just don’t care about what’s going on. I feel isolated because I’m the only one who feels uncomfortable dealing with people. I just wish I could be that happy person who people want to spend time with. Instead I feel shunned by the people around me. I feel excluded, like they only talk to me because they have to. I’m afraid of being vulnerable or weak. I’m afraid of being human. I try to get through everything by myself because it’s easier than admitting that I’m not good at socializing. That it makes me very uncomfortable. That things that shouldn’t bother me do, and that things that don’t bother me probably should. If I don’t care, then I can’t be hurt by failure. If I don’t belong here, then it won’t bother me when I have to leave. Like this is all just temporary and one day I’ll be out in the real world and things will be different. But the truth is that this is the real world. This is the chance to make friends, but I’m too scared and protective to take the chance at getting to know people because I’m scared that if they got to know me they wouldn’t like who they see. So I keep my barriers up and don’t step out of my comfort zone because it’s the only way to keep myself from getting hurt.
About janinerussellThe transition to adulthood; reflecting on the past to create a better future.
Hey all! Janine here.
This blog is to help me understand what is going on in my life, because I find that until I share my experiences it is hard to make sense of them and what they mean to the bigger picture. When there's nowhere else to turn, your typewriter is there to listen without judgment, and just let you bleed.
Welcome to the inside of my head.