:: Closing Time ::

:: Tuesday, August 13, 2002 ::

Tonight I blog because it's 2:00 AM and I'm home and my evening feels badly unfulfilled. That's not a good way to say it because it's not like we didn't have fun - we did, and thanks to whoever planned it since don't know who it was. I enjoyed seeing people. But now I have to blog because there were as usual some issues. And though I've basically come to the conclusion that some of them are unresolvable, I figure I might as well air my (not grievences.... that makes me sound like I'm asking for a resolution from somebody which I'm not) .... observations.

I said I was considering a tell all as the summer wrapped up. Well, it IS wrapping up, but it's not tell all time. It may never be - my main reason is because I've realized I couldn't SAY everything I want to because I'll forget something. So this is the first in (I hope) a serious of "tell mores."

Tonight. Started out pretty cool, we went to town hall an picknicked. And then ended up at Chris', again pretty cool. Am I a huge When Harry Met Sally fan? Not really, but the fact that everyone was still outside when I got out of yog (I was helping Elizabeth who was alone) was nice, and so I hadn't exactly been offering a lot of input. So I went along w/ whatever.

By the time we got to Natalie's I was totally unsure of where the evening was going, but something in my head said it was going somewhere that I'd end up writing about. That's how I see things these days - blogworthy events are like flagged in my head. Well, it felt blogworthy and it became it with pictures of Mykl's cottage and the parties that happened there. Start with the fact that I didn't even know there were two trips/parties. Hmm. Ignore that though cause the first one was girls only, although I'm not sure if that was by design. Well, there were a lot of pictures. A -lot- of pictures. Of a whole lot of things. And a lot of people. Having a lot of fun.

I missed the biggest party of the summer that all my friends had.

Yeah. This didn't settle well. Not because I wanted to drink - don't get me wrong, I -don't- want to. I fucked that up once this summer. As much as I have a hell of a lot of fun when intoxicated (we're about to get to that on a tanget) I wasn't going to do it again. I think I'm not at all for a while, and certainly not in any serious quantity. But I wanted to be there, and have been there, because all my friends were there, and I've no better memories than of times when I could just be with my friends, constantly, for a while. These primarily consist of overnight parties - cotillion last year, prom this year, things like that. Didn't mention cotillion this year or boat cruise - I'm sure most of you have already noticed, and I'm sure half of you can figure out why.

So what it comes down to is the concious realization that basically... I'm not with my friends during a WHOLE lot of the stuff they do. And then I think about the kind of stuff Chris and I talked about and I realize..... I realize, that no matter how you define it, a lot of the people I consider friends simply do not have me on their list. And that sting to write, and I literally just winced as I wrote it because I know it to be true. And I've know explanation, no conclusion, no understanding of why or how. Sometimes I feel sort of used, or abused, or ignored, or whatever. Betrayed, sort of, but then I realize that if these people never called me friend then there was no betrayal. I just felt for something that wasn't there. This is the heart of where my drinking problem comes in.

Most of my friends rarely compliment me, on anything. These are the my friends whose friends I think I'm not - again, don't get me wrong. There are a few of you who I know and you know are the best friends I've got, and have ever had. We both know I'm not talking about you, and sometimes it may seem that I don't write about you folks. It's not that I take you for granted - it's that I understand that we have a level of trust and communication to the point where I don't have to express feelings in my blog to get them out of my system. If at any time we have any problems we deal with them.... and that's part of why you few are the best friends I've got. But back to my sort of friends. Who don't compliment me.... except when I'm drinking. I get a -lot- of compliments when I'm drunk. Mainly I think that's because I act differently.... because people like that me more. That me that's not really me, but is the one they want to see. Too bad I can't do that sober.

Therein lies the real issue, and the central focus of this tell-more. My guess is I'm not telling half of you anything new, and the other half of you won't even believe it as I write it, but at least then you fucking knew. I'm ridiculously, absurdly, incredibly insecure about just about everything, and most so how people think of me. This developed from being basically the smallest kid all throughout elementary school with the bad hair that got made fun of constantly. I had a few friends up through till fourth grade but they were just as ridiculed and basically... we all dealt differently. By fourth grade I started making some real friends. Rossetti and I were pretty good friends in 4th grade primarily because we spent a huge percentage of the school year working together out in the hall - we were ahead of the rest of the class in math by like four chapters, so he had us just keep going. We learned material on our own and had that between us. By fifth grade I had friends I've already talked about - John and Chris for one, but folks like John Laughead, Justin Alden-Dunn, and other people who I wouldn't be at all associated with today. Then something went wrong - my friends started getting popular, and popular with girls. I didn't. That early I was a social failure, from day one. One of my best friends went out with my dream girl of three years and broke up with her, only to get back together with her a year and a half later and break up with her again. God.... it made me burn inside. I was so incredibly jealous of what he had, her attention and her affection, and he could just squander it, throw it away. He didn't appreciate her.

Anyhow. You get the idea. I've been insecure and jealous and totally socially baffled since I was eight years old. This comes as a complete shock to a few of you who have described me completely otherwise. And as simply a label to some of you who simply see me as inept in general. A few of you may even disagree with me, and you're the most baffled of all. There are some who don't know me - I can of a few off the top of my head, people I know who read my blog who basically have no perception of who I am. Then there are a few who THINK they know me and totally don't. Again I can think of a few. You may not know what to think of what I'm writing because I expect at least one or two of you will figure out who you are.

It all sounds superficial, but it's the biggest problem I've ever had, constantly, in my life. It's the one that nags me in everything I do. It's the one that causes me to fail in other things. I've never had any real challenges academically - the ones I do end up having, at least according to the transcript record, are because I spend so much time trying to be less of a social failure. I spent so much time trying to have people like me that I don't work. If I don't solve that problem.... I may fail out of college on it. I know I'm smart, I know that's one thing I've always had going for me. Maybe it scares people. It floated me through middle school, an almost straight A student. And it managed me through highschool, a mostly B student with As in some areas (math especially) and worse in history and stuff that required more work. Work I couldn't bring myself to put in because the fear I had wasn't of failing history. I hated every time I let Mr. Whitbeck down, but not as much as I hate the scorn I get from people I was absolutely begging to care about me, or to respect me. Most just ignored me, some openly scorned me, and none defended me. Among my friends, much much less so, but the same behaviors are displayed. And that's the gaping wound I take with my to college, that I really don't have many mutual friends to come home to. That if my parents move out of Wellesley when I'm at school, there will probably be (like Chris defines his friends) about as many people who will notice/care that I'm not back as I can count on a hand. Maybe if you count noticing OR caring, and not both, you can extend it to two hands. Those are my best friends, and the people closer to it.

That doesn't come anywhere near the number of people I've tried to be a friend to, and not even to the number of people I've thought were my real friends.

I need a break from this honesty, because it's really, really depressing me to get this all out. I have to. It's going to be better tomorrow for it. But now I've got to read DeSantis' blog. It's a break.

Unfortunately he only has written one new, reasonably short blog. It made me think a bit though. And more importantly, it was a break. Here I go again.

So yeah. My insecurity. I got to it, because of the fact that it goes away when I'm drunk. Which is why I love being drunk, or even at all intoxicated. I lose that insecurity people actually seem to like me. So that's why I drink, and I wouldn't even have done that at Mykl's because of what happened at Ben's. Ignore the fact that I've figured out what went wrong - I wouldn't even have chanced it, I'm not going to. Partially because of what Chris Holownia and I both first said - he saw people drinking in one picture, and swimming in another. And he was like "Wait a minute, you weren't drinking and swimming were you? That's really dangerous." And in the next picture Mallory is swimming out to a dock with a beer in her hand. I wouldn't have.

I would have gone though, because of all the people I care about. Most of them were there. I would have gone - weeks earlier, I was sort of invited by association because it was talked about at Christine's house. I was at Christine's house because we'd gone to Andrew's to watch the baseball game, and he'd called Christine and she'd said you all should come over. Anyhow. I was I think basically sort of invited because I was there. Then later apparantly the invitations were before Ben's - and I wasn't invited. What else is new. And after Ben's, well.... I fucked up. And obviously I'm on thin enough ice with people that that was a huge deal. Like nobody else has ever made a mistake. Several people have privately told me that I wasn't the only one who made a mistake, but nobody says it publically. They just let me fry.

What else is new.

Anyhow. That's what I came to from tonight. Some people weren't as pleased to see me as I was to see them. A good few, honestly. For a dozen reasons, I don't know, but I'm sure they're all connected to my failings. My insecurity, my failings. Some of you are blessed, because you're attractive. Some somewhat so, some very much so. People ignore/work around your failings because the one thing they notice immediately and want, you have. Others are blessed with confidence that somehow people are attracted to. Ignore the fact that often that confidence is tied to cockiness, arrogance, and a downright offensive attitude towards other people. It takes a lot of confidence to use somebody. Yet.... you're loved.

I see how some of you act as inappropriate, as degrading to people, or as offensive. And yet... most of you, I'd trade places with in a second. Because in over ten years the strengths I have that hid below the surface haven't even come close to helping me deal with the blaring weaknesses.

Nobody ever wanted to help me. Nobody took pleasure in that - they take pleasure in helping those who don't need help, because that's why they even thought of it in the first place.

I just edited this line. because it's more than I'm ready to say. a few days ago, I said that I wanted to say somethings I couldn't say. I still can't say them. because as much as I bear my soul and myself in this thing.... there are a few things that my own insecurity still won't even let me admit.
:: Peter 3:16 AM [+] ::
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