I went out this evening to take down some cobwebs that were attached to the back of my house. The fireworks began to go off and I stood in my backyard, by myself, and watched the displays around me. When there was a lull in the festivities, I went around the front of the house and saw much of the neighborhood gathered, walking around, and talking. As I looked around the houses, I realized that I would never be the way most functioning individuals are. I would not be able to casually approach someone and converse, hell, I didn't want them to even look at me because I am constantly thinking I am being judged.
I don't want to be like that, I just am due to circumstances from my past.
This isn't new to me. I've dealt with it as family and friends have pushed me to the side simply because they don't want to deal with it or they don't understand it. What bothers me more is that I am alone. I am not sure if I will have anyone to really talk to, or call a friend again in my life.
There's no winning situation right now. If I try to make myself sociable, but shy away from conversation, I am deemed a snob more times than not. If I don't go out then I am just simply a recluse. I'm anti social. I'm depressed. I'm the strange neighbor. I different because I don't work on my yard as much...and the rabbit hole that is my anxiety ridden mind begins.
I had a relative tell me one time that I should just try and get over it. This set me off because people seem to think their solution is the best as if I have never tried the majority of them. I told him to go fuck himself and that he did not know what this is like. That wasn't my best response in retrospect. But they are not the one pacing back and forth, working up the nerve to go drive the street to the grocery store, or waking up wondering if their job is really worth the hassle of dealing with IBS/nervousness that comes with anticipating the potential downfalls of the day ahead.
What people don't get is that it's not depression necessarily and think that people with anxiety are afraid of dying, but what they don't get, and probably never will, is that I am not afraid of dying...I'm afraid of living. I, in my mind at least, am alone when it comes to other people, lost in my own world that I don't share because no one else seems to care. I still have my wife and daughter though, and I hope that it enough for me to be content with.
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