Connections

I am a difficult person to get along with. I know this. I understand this. I realize my faults and shortcomings. I am not naïve or ignorant to the fact that I have issues connecting with people. Yet, at the age of 41, why do I keep falling into the same trap repeatedly? I acknowledge I have issues. In my mind, I run scenarios on how to break my old habits and start anew, do things differently—all to no avail. I keep resorting to what I have always done, act how I always acted, and say what I have always said. I want to change. I want to behave differently, but my fresh look on life never seems to last, much less begin. I realize now that, at my age, opportunities to meet people and make sustaining friendships are fleeting. I would love to imagine I have lived a life that had a significant impact on other people, and while I do interact with a few people occasionally, I yearn for something more. Something to validate my journey through life.

Throughout my childhood, I had friends. Kids I hung out with. Mostly due to being in the same class, I was invited to birthday parties and a few social gatherings outside of school. Once I graduated grade school and entered high school, that all stopped. Once I moved on from my eighth grade class, I didn’t keep in touch with anyone I knew. They had their social gatherings, meet ups, etc. Not me. Once I graduated grade school, it was like I disappeared from everyone’s life. Now, I realize it was most likely due to my social anxiety and extremely timid personality. I was never able to carry over my relationships with other kids from the classroom to after hours (sort of speak). I was friendly with the other kids, hung with them from time to time. During recess or lunch periods, I was mostly alone, not comfortable with sitting with the other kids, as I always felt that I didn’t “fit in” with them.

As I approached the later years of grade school, the other kids were beginning the adolescent trials of dating and exploring each other’s bodies. Not me. I could barely talk to girls. I chatted with them, but I never could make a connection with any. I did go on a date with one, which surprised the hell out of me. She asked me to a movie, which I said yes. After that one date, though, I never followed up or pursued anything further. Maybe I just thought people would come to me all the time? Not sure. I do know I never was one to initiate invitations for social gatherings. On half days from school, when we would get out at 12:00/12:30, the other kids would meet up at a pizza shop down the street afterwards. I was never invited. It always left me confused, and then hurt. I thought to myself “why not me?" I would always be riding the school bus heading home, then turning the TV on to watch cartoons, then homework. Not much for the social life. It left me depressed, wondering what the other kids were doing, where they were, how much fun they were having.

I think my mom was more concerned than I was. She would encourage (or push) me to be social; made sure I showed up to the school dance or sporting event. Once I was there, though, I had no idea how to act. I was so self-conscious I tried hiding in a corner somewhere until it was time to go home. She loved me, my mom did. Understanding me, though, was quite another thing. She didn’t understand why I was quiet or uncomfortable around others. I know I couldn’t articulate my feelings to her properly, so I know there was a disconnect between our thinking. Would it have made a difference, though? Improved my life into something happier, satisfying? Who knows. At the end of the day, I was alone and watched a lot of T shows and movies. My usual weekend activities.

Things were not much better in high school. Going into a place where, literally, I knew no one. It was easier in grade school, since I was in kindergarten with most of the kids and grew up with them. When at that age, there is so much less thinking involved in making friends or meeting people. Just instinct. In high school, though, things are more complicated. I didn’t have any friends in the two years at my first high school, an all-boys school. I occasionally chatted with them, but I never made any connections with anyone. Too scared and self-conscious.

For my last two years of high school, I transferred. My parents thought it would be a positive influence on me; a change of scenery. For the first few weeks, I didn’t talk to anyone. I felt like I was an alien in a foreign land. A reset button was hit, and I was starting at the bottom. Things were marginally better at the new school. Talked a little bit more. Since this was a co-ed school, it made me break out of my shell a bit and I eventually made a few friends at school. Eventually, over the next two years, I felt somewhat comfortable in talking with the other kids. My social life was still non-existent. This was before cell phones, texting, Instant Messaging, Facebook, etc. It was either I talked with them at school or nothing. I joined the wrestling team, mostly because another kid dragged me along. It had its cool moments. Since it was a wrestling team, it didn’t make an impact in my social standing at the school, though, but it was something to do. After graduation, I went to one party, which I was graciously invited to. It was a disaster for me; one of the most uncomfortable and unnerving experiences in my life. I am still not sure why I was invited, much less agreed to attend. All the other kids were friends, comfortable with each other. I was an outcast. Over-stayed my welcome. When I left the party, I felt worse than before I went. It was a lonely summer for me. High school was supposed to be where people made their lifelong friends, created lasting memories, or something like that. Not me. Loneliness and emptiness reigned over me. I don’t think I have interacted with anyone from my high school days since graduation.

College is another important milestone in life, and not just for educational learnings and future professional prospects. Social happenings are the biggest, even at a college. Since I was a commuter, I didn’t have the luxury of living on campus 24/7 and being forced into social interactions, which, thinking back, was probably a good thing. Living with a stranger at college may not have been an ideal situation for my personality. Not living with other people my age always. Most likely, I would have been exposed, meaning had my personality out there for all to see and being rejected. I had some friends during my time in college. Met a lot of cool people. I even went on some social gatherings with people. Again, at the end of the day, and at the end of my college career, I was alone. Just like high school, I don’t interact with anyone since college graduation. I was not a mean person through my school career, not that I think of. Never bullied anyone. Didn’t get into serious troubles, wasn’t mean to anyone. Just lonely. Kept to myself. I didn’t have the courage to ask anyone to hang out, see a movie, etc. Again, maybe I just always thought things would happen to me. People would compellingly ask me to join them in whatever they were doing. Maybe that was my problem; I was living on hopes and dreams and wishful thinking instead of making it happen, living passively instead of actively, and taking control of my life and making things happen.

In the almost 20 years since high school, I have worked almost continuously. Mostly in the restaurant business. Line cook at the beginning, moved up to manager. Met a lot of people over the years. I was still not able to be a sociable person. Something else was building inside of me, though—anger. Angry at being disappointed all the time with relationships, feeling as if people pass a quick judgment over me due to my looks. I let my anger take over me, and that lead to bitterness. I would ignore people, especially females, who I though slighted me. And boy, did I know how to hold a grudge. The worst part was, I never told the recipient of the silent treatment why I ignored them. I would feel slighted from them, either because they started a relationship with someone else over me, or never invited me to hang out with them, but other people were always invited. I felt rejected, and hurt. I should have been more like an open book. More open minded. What I was too late in learning was that those people didn’t out right reject me, they were just indifferent, and that wasn’t their fault. It was, and is, on me. My personality was too combustible. Too fiery. Too stubborn. Too damn angry.

I think back on the past 20 years of my life constantly. Those are the years of my “adulthood.” The chance to build a life up, accomplish things, both professionally and personally. Our actions during our school years, or childhood, can always be chalked up to youth indiscretion; a time in life where one didn’t possess social graces or norms or acceptable behaviors. Once one reaches adulthood (whenever that is), BOOM, a light is supposed to switch on and one instantly knows how to act in a social acceptable way. Or so it seems. For me, I never did learn the social acceptable way of doing anything. Never developed social skills or tools. Almost 20 years since college, and I still haven’t made significant connections with anyone. I have made friends over the years. Taken part in social gatherings. Most of them I was so socially anxious I would watch TV to not be involved in any conversation, only because I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to approach new people and converse with them. And all that self-rejection has lead to self-sabotage, especially in my professional standing. The one piece where being social and making connections is so critical, I have failed. Miserably. I never established significant connections that would benefit me in a professional career. My anger always got the best of me, and lead to some contentious relationships (or the lack of) with superiors. I have always had rocky relationships with general managers. Instead of looking up to them as a mentor, I acted as if I knew more than them (which I didn’t). My anger always got the best of me. When I should have been sowing the seeds of lasting friendships and connections, I was digging a hole for myself. A deep one.

I haven’t kept in touch with many people in my past. I joined Facebook only two years ago. I have made connections on there, but nothing that is really life changing. I still feel empty inside. The anger that festered inside of me for many years has been subdued, possibly due to just getting older, or maybe I have changed over the years—realized that getting angry is just not worth it in life. Life shouldn’t be about pettiness, jealousy, or stubbornness. It's about learning. Adapting. Growing. Making connections. There are times I want to go back to my younger days and do so much differently, which is not going to happen. I can, though, live with an unfamiliar perspective on life, on how to find happiness. Self-loving instead of self-hating. Appreciate people.

As far as my social anxiety, I can learn how to be happy in life and not worry about what others are doing. Their happiness shouldn’t define my life. I do. It is not easy, nor going to be easy, in being more relaxed around others. Too much fear is instilled in me. I can try, at least.