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A Crack in the Black Clouds
6 years ago1,238 words
I didn't spend Valentine's Day alone, unexpectedly.

...But I wish it was what that deliberately misleadingly makes it sound like! It wasn't though. But I'll get to that in a minute.

It's annoying having ideas for things I want to post about here, but having no time or energy to actually do so. I think I already said that here recently? I can't remember or be bothered to check. Much of my time recently has been taken up by a psychology experiment that I had to help run as part of this undergraduate degree. While the actual testing didn't take up too much time in itself - like an hour or two a day, two or three days a week - the thought that it was a part of my life seemed to drain what little energy chronic depression allowed me to have, and made it difficult to spend the time I did have wisely.

But it's over now! The testing. So that's a huge relief. Hopefully I'll be able to get around to a lot of things I've been putting off now.

I noticed that my social anxiety was very much intensified by the whole ordeal. Watching every word I said as I had to interact with people I barely or didn't know, stumbling over my words a lot, saying probably inappropriate things (how was I to know that telling strangers I want to shove cabbages in their underpants wasn't socially acceptable?! ...I say as a joke even though the sorts of social mistakes I actually make feel as bad as that)... The worst part is the days-long period afterwards, where I review every little thing I've said or done over and over, cringing hard at those that evoked apparent discomfort in others, as evidenced by subtle shifts of their facial muscles or tones of voice. It's not something that I choose to do; the thoughts are intrusive, not entirely within my control. And while I know I 'should' feel differently about them - knowing that people are paying more attention than themselves than to me, for example, so they probably don't even remember or care - it's very much an inner battle that drains a lot of energy in itself. Every encounter feels like it requires a great degree of recovery afterwards, or leaves sometimes permanent scars... I get the impression that at least some degree of social awkwardness is par for the course for everyone, especially when interacting with strangers, but I suppose most people are socially experienced enough to 'perform' fluently and not make these mistakes at all, or they shrug them off more easily because their brain's amygdala is less sensitive than my particular genes have made mine to be. It's why I avoid so much, though; it all takes so much out of me.

Anyway. I mentioned in my previous post that one good thing to come of the experiment was that I liked one of the people in my small group. She's someone I've noticed in my classes for a couple of years now, who I thought from appearance alone would be someone I'd get along with, though I never had an opportunity to talk with her before. And now that we are talking more, we are indeed getting along, and have a lot of deeper things in common. I went out for a long walk with her after our final experiment yesterday - the first time we've properly met up outside classes - and I think it went well. She seemed to like being around me and said as much, and it was mutual, which was nice. It's sad that I've had this so few times in my too-long but barely-started life, just simple glimmers of mutual social pleasure, but, well, at least maybe we can both be something to each other in the too-few weeks that remain of university. She's got a boyfriend, but I'm so used to that now (everyone I meet having someone already, I mean) that it doesn't really bother me. I've given up hope of being anyone's partner anyway, so I wasn't looking for or expecting anything more than friendship. I only realised we'd gone out walking on Valentine's Day after I got home and my housemate mentioned it; I thought there were an unusual number of couples walking around! There was nothing romantic about our walking and talking, but it was nicer spending the day getting to know someone a bit better than just being miserable alone as I always have been, reminded of my undesirability.

Being found not-repulsive by someone changed my mind. Since my ex-friend B cut me out of her life, I've been wracked by guilt and self-loathing all day every day, feeling like I don't deserve human companionship because I'm an embarrassment to be around, I make too many mistakes, I only hurt people, and all kinds of other lovely thoughts fuelled by depression and rejection. I wonder what it's like to be the sort of mind that, for ego protection, handles rejection by blaming or demonising the rejector, finding fault with them rather than trusting their judgements and staring too hard and for too long at your own faults as if they're insurmountable. Stuck in some endless 'pity party', bound there because it's hard to feel that you deserve any better when you feel you're so damaged and unwantable. Growing to 'like' the pain because it's familiar, not wanting to give it up because it gives life a kind of reliable, darkly comforting narrative. "My life is so miserable, more miserable than anyone else's even!" Ego strengthening, I suppose. Gives a sense of identity, a spine to the nebulous goo of objectively meaningless events. The biggest problem with all that was that being cast out by someone is hard enough on its own, but if you lack supportive (physically present) others to counter your mind's self-condemnations, then you get trapped in the spiral. If I'd had a partner or other friends who'd wanted me even when this one person didn't, recovery would have been easier. But when you lose the only person - or in-person non-family-member, at least - who seemed to want you in some way, convincing yourself that anyone would want you feels like delusion because you have no evidence for it. You have to root beliefs in thin air.

So just spending about three hours wandering around with someone who didn't seem to see me as the horrible, repugnant, creepy criminal I've been seeing myself as made a huge difference to my mental weather. I felt something resembling a good mood for the first time in ages, and it was remarkable to observe how differently my mind worked in that state. How things that seemed impassibly huge and true in the depths of depression seemed ridiculous and feeble when light was shined on them.

Hopefully now I'll be able to get around to writing a few of the other posts that I've been meaning to write for a while! Or maybe some will seem not worth posting if they were born of monstrous torment!!! and no longer seem sensible or relevant. I don't know!

I hope though that those of you lucky enough to have actual meaningful intimate connections did something nice on that tacky day of love! And that those of you who, like me, don't have anyone didn't get too bothered by it all!

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