Moving on is “No Big Deal.”

I’m not super friendly. I’ve honestly really dropped the ball on my social life as an adult. I haven’t put much work into it. I’ve kept to myself since high school… A well-established habit now.

My husband has been my best friend for 12 years. He cannot keep to himself at all. He has fucked up bad. He cannot be my best friend right now. I really need another one.

I need a new friend, so badly. I need a best friend. A text-me-every-day-because-we-love-talking friend. I’m not really looking for casual. I want to be bff’s. But that’s the issue. It’s just not that serious when you’re a grown-up. This is not middle school, the place I basically left off with the human race.  Everyone has older, better, closer friends already. Everyone has someone they bond with, have things in common with, a person they do things with. Everyone knows people without crippling social anxiety, people who are better at cutting loose and having fun.

And here’s me: I don’t even know how to be friends, I guess. I’m nervous and clingy. I kind of hate going out and doing things. I have odd interests. I’m just a weird asshole… Now a lonely one with zero self-confidence.

Today, Facebook started my day with a couple of articles letting me know that realtionships are just no big deal. One talks about how falling in and out of love is no big deal, the other talks about how making and losing friends is no big deal. That exact phrase was used, “no big deal.” Seriously?! Well, I’m just a total idiot. I have literally been living my life life my relationships were the BIGGEST deal there was… Planned my future around the people I love. Looked forward to deep and meaningful relationships that lasted a long time. Made all these sacrifices. Been all sentimental  and patient and misty-eyed and careful.

Been a fool, apparently. I’ve just done it wrong.

I had this one best friend, THE best friend I had from school. We met in the 5th grade and we became inseperable for 2 years. I loved her. I really could give 2 shits if anyone else wanted to hang out for the most part. She was my bud… Of course we eventually grew apart as we grew up. I dropped out of school and she moved to a different one. We kept in touch for a while on the internet. We each got married and moved away. We’re Facebook friends now, that’s all. I can accept that.

But I still have my friendship ring from that long-ago time. A special trinket from a special time. I showed it to her today. She made a joke about how she barely remembers those rings, and that it seems like I “need to de-horde.” I was just glad not to be in the room with her right then. Thankful for the distance the Internet provides, so that she couldn’t see how much it sucked for me. Not only is it funny that I still have it, but I should casually throw it away now, this treasure I have hung on to for 17 years or so. Well, then.

I have a couple of other divorced halves of friendship things from special friends from childhood. I should go ahead and toss into the trash today. Those things are over. Nobody but me remembers them.  But I still don’t even want to throw them away now. I am a sad sack of shit.

I have no friends today. I have a bunch of old co-workers, a bunch of people from I knew back in ancient history, some estranged family, and a disrespectful, lying husband who has taken multiple dumps on our vows.

I haven’t worked in 3 years. I haven’t taken a class in 10 years. My parents have made it painfully clear that they don’t give a shit. I’m turning 30 this year and I really feel like it’s now or never. I have to change. I have to adapt better to this reality. I have to fix what’s wrong with me. I keep reminding myself to try to talk to people when I go places. Look at them, talk about something. Not too much, enough of you. Okay, ask about the person. Try to remember what they tell you, make a friendly reply. Now remember to excuse yourself. Be pleasant. Be open.

When my son starts school, there will be other moms to talk to. When I start school, I will have classmates. I could even actively seek out new people. I keep coaching myself. Every person I meet could become the new friend. I can do this. I just need to practice talking to people. I will eventually find a good way to connect with people again. I need to practice being friendly. Practice putting up with people I don’t instantly adore, expending the energy to continue getting to know them. Accept an invitation. Give an invitation…. Forgive minor offense.

I have so much work to do.


Doing Stuff.

I have struggled with social anxiety since before I dropped out of middle school. And of course it’s gotten worse over the years. Your self-confidence is liable to suffer a good bit after having withdrawn from society at such a young age. Skipping high school altogether. Struggling in college, being abandoned by your parents, dropping out, working minimum wage jobs and being manipulated by your husband your whole adult life… I’m not making excuses, I’m taking inventory in preparation for an overhaul.

I dropped a lot of balls in the first part of my life. I lacked the support, the discipline, the courage, the confidence, and the self-worth to Make Shit Happen. Tuition might have helped, too…. But fear has been the biggest drag. All kinds of fear and fragility, just running the show for years. I hate it. But it’s become part of the way I see myself, a very prohibitive facet of my identity.

I tried going to counseling last year. It kind of made things worse… It made me realize that I knew what I needed to do, I knew exactly what was wrong, but the action just wasn’t there. I wasn’t crazy. I didn’t need medication or cognitive behavioral therapy. I needed a few things to go right for me. I needed to change my circumstances. I just wasn’t ready.

I’m a stay-at-home mom and the problems in my marriage came to a head about a month ago. I think back on how much I have forfeited in the name of our union, I think about where I want to be in the future… About everything I’m not happy with in my life. Call it a midlife crisis, I guess. I am 29 this year. I have 2 little boys. And so much frustration. I have neglected my own needs and wants for so long.  I really just cannot continue living this life. So much of my fear has been replaced with anger, which motivates the fuck out of me. 

I’m getting registered to go back to school in the fall. I’m going for a certificate so I can get a job in an office… get paid to make lists, answer phones, do some payroll accounting, write some business emails and copy stuff. I want to have some damn job skills other than food service and cashiering. Some college credits that add up to something and aren’t a decade old. Prospects and options.

I hope to meet some friends that aren’t his. Maybe even get invited to something. maybe go without him. Get my own routine. I have to make a real effort to find my groove, find myself outside of our relationship. We’ve been together for almost 13 years already and I’m done being a foot stool.

I was very smart when I was 13. I had just about maxed out my ACT scores for reading and English…. but even then I sucked at math, and one of my new goals is to take an accounting class and get at least a B.

Everything is different now. I am different now.

A new blog, a new life.

I started a blog a couple of years ago.

It was all about me complaining about my life while trying to decipher all the madness of it. I told some of the sad stories from my life so far. I lamented all of the false starts, all of the “mistakes,” all the ways in which I was just stuck and didn’t know what else to do. I complained to no end about my husband and my mother, spending hours upon hours recounting our fights. It was an absolute hell festival with no end in sight. I oscillated between righteous anger and defeated sadness. No solutions, no real ideas, just crying and bitching. Sometimes it seemed so pointless, such a waste of time.

But slowly, a complete picture began to emerge from that catharsis….. one that showed my silly life for what it was. One that could have given me direction to fix it. Instead, I got tired. I quit writing it and tried to forget what I had found out. I deleted it, because it was too much at the time. It was still easier to pretend, to pave over.

Well, shit. I suppose you could say that I’m ready to see it now.

I have vowed to avoid the same pitfalls of endlessly recounting sad stories. This blog is going to be about where I’m going now.

So begins a new blog and a new chapter in my life.