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Reflection from October 23rd, 2008 @ Age 27

RE:  HOW SOCIAL EXCLUSION OF THE MENTALLY-ILL CAUSES AND REINFORCES THEIR SOCIAL ISOLATION.

I largely define success in terms of relationships, and that’s mostly why I feel like such a failure.  I’ve no friendships in the near vicinity except Kayleigh and Sam, and even they are over two hours away.  I’ve no significant other, and I don’t think I have the confidence to even stand proud of myself in the face of love.  I’d merely cower away, tail between my legs.  I don’t know why social relationships are so difficult for me, but they most definitely are.  I suppose I have great relationships with most of my immediate family and for that I am proud and I am thankful.  But in terms of my autonomous being, I am lost and I am empty.  How, after all these years, do I still find myself coming up short?  Why am I simply not good enough?

Still no word from Sam but it’s important to mention that often when I am high, I am suddenly sufficient and relevant and poignant and loved.  I am proficient at social relationships most of the time when I am high, I feel normal in the sense that I crave social attention and attentiveness.  If you found something that made you feel normal, wouldn’t you too want more?

I did want to mention that they other day was another perfect example of the verbal disaster that spews forth from my mouth.  Caleb and Lainey were so nice to hang out with me and I tell you I had one of those days that you ache over—knowing that you’ll never again get it back.  Well anyways, during which, over coffee we were speaking about working out.  Lainey said that her muscles don’t just get tired, but they literally ache when she tries to work out.  Well do you know what my dummy comment was?  I told her I didn’t think that was normal.  The thing is—I don’t think it is normal.  Caleb said I’m just different because I did gymnastics all those years and my body can withstand more, and that may very well be true.  But he also said that lactic acid probably contributed to Lainey’s condition, which can’t be true because I know it takes hours after a workout for lactic acid to build up.  Well anyways, I felt so bad for having called Lainey abnormal I wrote an email to Caleb and told him I was sorry and I hope she didn’t take what I said personally.  I just thought she might want to see her doctor about the issue if it didn’t clear up after so long.  I don’t know why I feel like such a monster for saying what I said, but I do.  Well Caleb never wrote back and I don’t know where either of them stand, but I feel bad nonetheless.  It leads me to wonder whether I ruminate too deeply on these types of social encounters?  Could it be that my sense of feeling is more acute than the regular persons?  Why do I care?  I just don’t know.

Anyways, another moment that struck me was when they asked me what I usually did on weekend nights and I laughed and said I usually study or workout or watch DVR’d TV with mom.  I told them I don’t really have any friends around here and do you know Lainey said neither did she.  That kind of made me feel good, knowing that I wasn’t the only one in the world who felt that way.  Which makes me feel all the more bad for telling Lainey I thought she was not normal.  Which isn’t even really true because I didn’t say point blank to her that I thought she was not normal—I just said that I thought it wasn’t normal for her muscles to ache after short bursts of physical activity.  I don’t feel like I’m making any sense right now though, and I’m just going to give up trying so I don’t keep rambling on about nonsense.  But that would be pretty judgmental, wouldn’t it?  To label my thoughts “nonsense”?  That’s what they feel like though; they don’t feel succinct and beautiful, they sound repetitive and boring and unimportant.  I’m writing myself into a ditch here.