I've always considered myself to be fairly outgoing and affable. And, I suppose I am. However, these traits do not necessarily correlate with making/maintaining good friendships.
admission: I am socially inept
discussion: For whatever reason (my dad says it's because I'm too critical), I can't stand most people. People annoy me. I find myself thinking that I should spend time with people anyway. When I do, I usually am reminded why people annoy me. All you people who read this, I like you, please don't take offense. It just takes me a really long time to like anyone at all beyond the initial casual conversation part. Why don't I like people? My best guest is that I'm critical of others because I'm even more critical of myself. Thus, traits that I see in myself and then see in others are criticized. But, I feel like I criticize a lot of things I don't see in myself as well? Maybe I'm just lying about that. Perhaps I don't like people because it's difficult to trust people. People say things and then don't do those things, or are often just douches. Maybe it just seems like they're douches from misunderstandings. That takes us back to the point of me being too critical.
I've always felt that I should have a lot of friends and hang out with those friends. I have a lot of of friends who I like and I like to hang out with, but none of them live where I live. This exacerbates my problem. I make friends, friends either live elsewhere or I move. In fact, this pattern has existed for my whole life. In elementary school when I lived in Yucaipa, I remember being really close friends with this kid named Brian. We were cool. In 4th grade, we moved over to Redlands where in elementary school I sort of had a few friends but not really. I managed to finally have a few close friends by middle school, I suppose. But then of course I moved to england and fell out of touch with many of them (thanks to my incredible powers of not keeping in touch with people) and then I had to start over again my sophmore year. Obviously we can see this cycle repeated on a much faster scale in my college years. Perhaps the answer is then that it just takes me a long time to get into good friendships. On the scale of a year or two?
It wouldn't be so bad just being anti-social except that it creates this loop of me thinking I shouldn't be like this, and then when I try to go against it, I feel like anti-sociality is mostly better. Maybe I just haven't met people who like to hang out how i like to hang out. The way most college people socialize is by getting together and drinking. And for anyone who knows me, you know it's not my preferred method of being social. BYU is, of course, the exception; the main form of socialization there is any type of interaction that furthers the quest for a mate.
Even having just given a cursory examination to the circumstances that could have caused this, I feel like I didn't use to be anti social. I feel that way, but it must not be true because my step-mom always used to bother me about not playing with other kids enough or whatever thing. But then again, she might have just wanted me out of her presence. This mystery remains unsolved.
I spent a lot of time discussing this with my therapist in Oregon, and I thought we'd accomplished something, but maybe not. Either that or I forgot or needed affirmation about it but having not seen a therapist for 4 months, it hasn't been as affirmed as I'd liked. We generally put this subject in terms of feeling important or "good enough" to be conversational and make friends with other people. I don't find myself interesting. Sure, I juggle knives and ride a unicycle but the fact of the matter is, I go to school and work and eat breakfast and do boring crap just like everyone else. And then I turn to escapism. There's nothing interesting about that. Why would anyone even want to care? --
ah...the root of the problem. I knew I would find it if I kept writing. I find everyday activities and my participation in them to be very unexciting, disinteresting. Maybe it's from reading too much fantasy literature or watching too many cartoons as a child, but I think a lot of life is boring.
conclusion: But the thing is, that's what life IS! it's just the boring day to day stuff and what you make of it, and I think on some level I'm profoundly disappointed by that. Like there should be more. Or there is more and I'm just not doing it. Actually that's probably it. I hate feeling like I'm missing out on something interesting. When people call me and I can hear everyone really having a good time, I find that upsetting. I want to be doing something fun as well but I'm just at home reading a book probably. Maybe watching a movie. So why would this person want to talk to me when he or she has much more interesting things happening right there? I don't actually know what I'm going to (or can) do about this. Writing about it at least helps me consider the problem more fully though. Not being interesting is kind of a linked topic with "no one cares" for me, which is another feeling that I've always felt pretty strongly. This could stem from a billion different ideas, but I can most notably trace it back to the parents: my mom leaving, my dad repeatedly telling me during childhood and my adolesence that no one care about me except him (he did honestly say that. If you ask him, he'll admit it though not happily), and my step mom just obviously not giving a fuck about me. It's just really hard for me to trust that anyone does care, it takes a long time. And that's probably why I don't have friends or a social life. It takes a long time for anyone to prove that they care and by that time I've probably moved or found some reason to shut myself off again. Gods, I fucken fail.
edit: I just remembered, its the day before easter (well, easter now i guess). This day always goes terribly and i always have something bothering me. I don't know why, it's not like I do it on purpose.