The worst part is, I'm not entirely sure what my problem is. I don't consciously prevent myself from saying things, I don't have any fear that what I say or do somehow won't be accepted by the people around me, I just simply don't know what to say. Nothing comes to me. My mind is blank--I'm like a deer in the headlights. How do I go about fixing something like that? It's not as simple as an attitude change... it's... I don't even know what. Lara says that, like with anything else, practice makes perfect, and what I need to do is simply go to more social gatherings and practice talking to people. I know she's right, but it's always so hard to start.
I also feel like the older I get, the fewer excuses I have for things. When I was little, if I wanted to be wild and silly and make stupid noises, I could because that's what kids do. If I were to do that now, strangers would think I was crazy and my parents would roll their eyes and lament at their tragically immature daughter who refused to grow up. When I was a kid, if I didn't want to play with others and just wanted to keep to myself, they would say it was "just a phase" and that it would pass. Now suddenly being withdrawn means you must be depressed, you must have some deep seated psychological issues that will likely never go away. When I was a kid, if I did something stupid and destructive, I would be scolded and then it would be over, because I was only a child after all, and I couldn't have known any better. Now I'd be considered a truant, even a felon, an irresponsible, psychologically disturbed adult. I feel like my time for guilt-free stupidity is over, and I didn't take advantage of it.
I feel immense pressure coming at me from every angle. What I want often conflicts with what others want, or what is expected. Sometimes I feel like I have all the time in the world. Other times I dwell on how my time is limited, and how I've already wasted more valuable days of my life than I care to count. I always feel like I'm supposed to get something out of everything. Like everything I do, every place I go, every person I meet is supposed to enrich me, and when I don't feel anything new, I panic that I've missed something. I'm a dreamer, but also a realist (surprisingly, the two are not mutually exclusive), and I have very high expectations, both for myself and for the world. This is a dangerous combination. I have the imagination and naivete to come up with fantastical goals for myself, but the realist in me slaps the dreamer across the face and says assuredly that my goals are foolish. This disheartens me and discourages me from putting in any real effort, and when, in the end, I do not in fact accomplish my goal, the high expectations part of me will not allow me to live it down. Small victories and personal connections distract me and keep me sane, but I think most of the time, there is at least one small nagging part of me that is profoundly disappointed in myself.
I spoke to a friend recently who told me that she has one goal in life: to be happy. The details of that, and the steps to be taken in order to achieve this goal are subject to change, but the abstract concept remains constant. I asked her about school, passions, places, concrete things, and she dismissed it all, saying she had no plans and refused to make any, because to make a plan is to set yourself up for disappointment. I was a little stunned and didn't quite know what to make of her simple outlook on life because it differed so drastically from my rigid, organized one. I am inclined to say that she is wrong, that she is foolish, because without school she cannot get a job, and without a job she cannot get money for a house and a family, and she cannot live in security without worry and hardship... but I am inclined to think this because it has been ingrained in me, by my parents, by my peers, my teachers, my culture. What if one day in the future, I am sitting at my secure job with my degree, leading a normal, "successful" life, and I realize that I am unhappy? And what if meanwhile, she is living somewhere, unsure if she will even be in the same place tomorrow, without a job, without a house, and she is more content than I? What if I only want what I want because it has been pounded into my brain that I want it? How can I know? This is what troubles me.
And this is why sometimes I find it hard to speak. How can I get myself to focus on little, immediate things when there is so much to fret about? How am I supposed to meet someone, sell myself to them and make them like me when I have so much doubt?
