You know how you think you're pretty fucking awesome all the time? And then every once in a while, you get blindsided by feelings of self-loathing and despair and inadequacy? Yeah, me, too.
I've been thinking lately about friendship and how it factors in to your life. I like this blog and Twitter because I feel like I can be who I am and there aren't any judgments [TO MY FACE] about me being me. There aren't any ramifications, either, really, because I know very, very few people personally in real life who read this blog or follow me on Twitter, and the people I have met [in person, via Skype or email, or by phone] have been nothing but kind and warm-hearted. Like really, really nice.
And yet . . .
Every once in a while, I get that WHY NOT ME? angst rearing its ugly, shameful head. Rather than focus on the friends I've made [and I do consider them friends - whether they feel the same, I have no idea, but I have yet to be served with a restraining order, so I'm assuming they're getting something out of this, too], I sometimes think WHY AM I NOT FRIENDS WITH THAT PERSON? And instead of focusing on the real reason - maybe a lack of commonality, maybe they don't have time, maybe the stars simply haven't aligned yet - I assume it is a defect in me. That I am to blame as being unworthy of someone sharing their time. I mean, it may well be that person has an aversion to someone who says cunt or motherfucker on an oft-daily basis, which, you know, I get, and which for some reason is more palatable than thinking that that person takes issue with me and my thoughts.
Please understand I am not thinking of anyone in particular, I am not calling anyone out. The person could one day be Tina Fey [and sometimes has been] or it may be someone who pops up on my Twitter timeline periodically and I think, "I SHOULD BE BFFs WITH THAT PERSON HOW ARE WE NOT WHY DO THEY HATE ME?" even thought I *technically* haven't had an actual interaction with them.
Anyway, that kind of shit pops into my head every once in a while, and while I loathe the fact that it seems as if I haven't developed emotionally beyond a frightened middle schooler, I do like the fact that I can step back and objectively look at the situation with something less than total blind panic.