I know that kind of thinking never got me anywhere and it contains so much teenage angst and I’m way too old for this. But lately, I keep going down that lane again. The one where I wonder why my friends even put up with me. It’s just that whenever we meet, I feel like we’re always doing the same boring things and they only ever ask me if I want to do those things with them, too. Then, when they do stuff with other people, it’s always so much more fun and so much cooler and just…different.
I’ve felt this way for as long as I can remember and it’s so hard to convince myself that people don’t think of me as boring and lame and that one friend they can’t take anywhere. When I was in high school, I used to think of me as “the fat girl”. Now I’ve moved on. I’m the “fat and boring and embarrassing girl that you can’t even let tag along”.
I don’t even know if that’s true and with the way things have been in my life so far, there’s a 90% chance that it’s all just in my head. On the other hand there are some undeniable facts. Like the fact that everything somewhat exciting – vacations, concerts, exhibitions… – usually get done with other friends. And the sitting at home and / or eating and lamenting about the depressing aspects of life is done with Kathy. And I’m never the one that people approach spontaneously, either. I’m meeting some friends for dinner next weekend and we planned that a month (!) in advance. Other things are usually planned a week in advance at least. This wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t the same people that tell me they met friends after work spontaneously.
And I wish I could say that I blame it on other people. But I’ve never been able to do that. I only look for the fault in myself. Which is especially hard because I know I’m so terribly uncool. I’m really not the person that anyone wants to be seen with. Hell, I don’t want to be seen with myself. And yet, I am trying. I’m trying to be more positive. I’m trying to keep up with people even when I know they’re much fitter and can do a lot more in a day. I’m trying to be more conscious of what I’m wearing. But maybe that all means that I’m even more despicable because I’m trying too hard. I want to be mad at people because I shouldn’t have to feel like I need to try to be cool and fun and upbeat for them. I shouldn’t feel like I need to keep up with anyone. In fact, I should tell people to go to hell if they make me feel that way. But I never do. Probably because I myself want to be someone else.
As long as I can remember, I always thought that losing weight was the key. But I don’t know. Maybe it’s not just the weight. I’m afraid that maybe someday I will lose all that extra weight and find I still hate who I am. What if I’ll still hate my face and my attitude? What if I’ll always be socially awkward without ever gaining enough confidence to say “Fuck it, this is who I am?”
Wow! That was a lot of negativity for a Sunday. My apologies.
I should stop the negativity because I have a week off and I should focus all that energy on going out, working out, doing things that are good for me rather than dwelling on things I can’t foresee or change.
If only it was so easy to listen to your own good advice, huh?