Hundreds of numbers in my contacts. Only four that I feel comfortable reaching out to when I’m in need of a friend. Makes it real tough when none of them can answer and I’m going through some shit.
Its amusing I suppose. Many people have told me that they think I have a lot of friends. I put on a great face at work. I’m loud. Constantly talking. On many committees where I have to present in front of crowds. I do a lot for my school community, and I (mostly) do it with a friendly face and a smile. Truth of the matter is, I often feel very alone. I only have a small number of people I trust with my inner sadness and anxiety. It’s a vulnerable position, calling someone when you’re lost in the throws of an anxiety meltdown. You’re open. Exposed. Raw. And although I know it’s not true, it makes me feel even more lost when I have to fight through it alone.
I think part of me thinks that the “others” will leave me. That once they see a glimpse of my bleak side that they’ll abandon our friendship. That they’ll realize how worthless and unlovable I am and leave. I understand that that’s a cognitive distortion. I know I am worthy and lovable. What I don’t know how to do, is get the cognitive distortion to shut up. I can quiet it often, and occasionally for longer periods of time, but the minute I am overtired or over stressed, out comes the doubt and anxiety. It lives inside the stretch marks across my lower abdomen. Inside my ‘Wagner waddle’. Inside my inability to remember how I forged such emotionally close/intimate relationships with my four close friends to begin with. Inside the constant bad messages on OKC and the constant lack of replies. Inside the, week of normal conversation turned to ‘so tell me how you want to be fucked.’ I’m so tired of hating myself but can’t seem to make, not doing so, stick around long enough.