brightlotusmoon

...
I have not felt this way since I was nine years old.
My mother sent me to one of the best child psychiatrists in New York City for a year.

...I need to make new friends and soon.
(Or find a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle plushie doll.)

I wish I new how to make new friends.

I wish I knew how to reach out without fear, without worrying about rejection. "Sorry, I'm busy, I have six dozen other friends to see. How's next summer work for you?"
I need to be able to say, "No, I want to see you now or very soon. I miss you. I haven't seen you in X weeks/months/years. Please, find time to see me. I cannot drive. I need people."

I hold myself back. I scare myself away. I need to break a habit.

Sooner or later, I may go back to that place I was in twenty years ago, and I don't actually remember it. It won't be as bad as it had been, but it won't be a place I'll want to stay in.

So I will move away from it. I'll go far away from it and I'll make sure it never touches me. But I can't do it alone.

Alone.

I don't want to be alone.

Help me out; find the time to come see me. I don't care if you have a hundred friends. I am one of those friends. Call me, myself, not just my husband. He and I may be a unit, but we're not fused. I want to be able to get out on my own, but I need at least a little help. Even if you have to take two hours to drive, try to find the time and come pick me up, and I'll pay for gas. I just want to see people. People, not parties. Not crowds. Not gatherings where music screams and people in skimpy leather clothing shout at each other clutching plastic cups of alcohol.
People, in a small cozy living room. On couches. Eating snacks and playing silly games. Laughing about small things.

I don't think I've ever made an outburst quite like this on LiveJournal, and yes it is shaping up to be an outburst.

I am hindered by my lack of a car, by my shyness, by my withdrawn introvert personality. I know I need to do better. I know I need to reach out and fucking talk to people. It's up to me. It's not like I make a habit of getting out and meeting people. Social anxiety disorder is a bitch.
But for right now, I want sometime to reach out to me. To call me and say, "Hey, Jo, I'm not doing anything this weekend. Wanna go to X place and hang out with me and a couple of other friends? I'll pick you up."

Yes, whining. I know. Lay it on me. I bring it on myself, I don't make an effort, I stay in my house, I don't pick up the phone.
But I do. And I wind up leaving overly hopeful messages. People are usually too far away and busy too see me. I pick inopportune times.

Fuck this. I want to actually see the people I am supposed to be friends with.

Outburst done.
Going to hug my kitten now.