life is not cupcakes

 I think I am understanding more and more the true nature of my dilema.
This is my delima.
At times I feel so deeply, so much that the feelings are swollen to the point that they effect my actions, my choices, my life.
Other times I am numb.
When I say numb I mean I retreat inside and become isolated from all forms of human contact. If you've ever met me. You've seen me shut down like this.
It looks like I have decided all I want is to be alone. It LOOKS like I have effectively pushed at the fabric of my aura and silently but powerfully put up a big sign that says "GO AWAY".
Yet, I have to tell you the truth here. It is a mechanism. It is a natural product of fear. The truth is, I am lonely!
I have said before that I write for people who can't write. People whose stories would otherwise, not be told, but it takes a kind of bravery I am not sure I have. I mean, how do I explain what it is like to live in constant uncertainty? How do I convey the irrational fear in a way that gives people who don't have this problem a sense of clear understanding?
I know what I have been told. Here is a list of things from many well wishers who I feel just don't understand.

- Just get over it.
-Oh just find something you like to do and do it.
- You're not trying hard enough.
- You have nothing to be afraid of.
-It's because you don't love yourself enough.
- You just need to make more friends.
- You just need to get out more.
- You're beautiful, its your fault you don't see that.
etc....

Ah.. people people! I've heard these things before! Many others as well. Don't think for one minute that I do not hear this advise and digest it. Don't think that I do not, every day, try loving self. I've talked about that. I think it is very important to foster love in one's self. So I spend much time trying to rewire my  brain to think more positively.
Yet, by nature I am restless. You say, I should try harder. To which I answer. Do you not see how emotionally draining this stuff is? Getting over phobias, getting over the types of anxieties that most people find so easy because they do not have them.
Let me say this. Do you know what it's like to be so critical of yourself that every action you take is a carefully calculated one? I do... I do. That is what happens to me when I get around people.
Here, I will give you a scenario.

I enter a restaurant.
Immediately, I look around the room, I decide right away how many different ethnicities, how are they dressed and if they look at me, what expressions are in their faces. Most people have an autopilot that is relatively disinterested.
My next phase, I walk to wherever I need to so that I can order, or get shown to a seat.
This is the moment where I  will grip my wallet, or I will think about how much money is in my account, how much I am likely going to spend, and do I have cash to leave a tip?
There is an irrational fear here, in which I think I am being watched, but not only that I think people can smell the poverty from me. The poverty I come from, the unusualness of my features, and I start to wonder about my choice of clothes... Is this appropriate for where I am? I also note the families I see, the couples, and I can't help but to feel a pang of longing. The closeness I have always wanted for myself seems so elusive...
Then I tell myself, I need to just have fun.
I puff up my chest, I  look at the menu. I make every effort to look normal while a pile of jitters course through my veins. I tell myself I should have done my hair different. I order my meal, do my best to smile...
glance surreptitiously around the room... note available exits...
You don't notice, you never notice. I have mastered the art of seeming calm. I have a special ability that allows me to do this... it is called the shut down mechanism, which I mentioned earlier.
Then I have my meal, pay and go do something else.
I ask myself, why do I do it?
Maybe because I want to feel some sense of normalcy. Maybe it's because I had been deprived of such luxuries for so long.. I don't know.

There is one thing I do know though.  That is, that it is not about me.

I repeat... it is not about me.
I am consciously aware that people don't give a damn
Yet, I am powerless to my reactions. I can try telling myself over and over that I am worthy, I am fit to be where anyone else is.. I belong.
Yet.. there is still that little perverted voice inside my head that says You are different, you are lying, you don't belong.

And folks, when my offers of friendship are not taken seriously, when I am ignored, when I am not approached,  when people buddy up at events effectively isolating individuals, you just confirm the pervert voice's edict. I am different, oh sin of sins!
I am different...

But it's not about you either.

It is about us.
Our interactions to each other. Our humanity, our ability to find and create connections on this dust bowl, because whether we like it or not we all have a share in this world. It is about how we respond to each other, how we help each other.
Like creating stepping stones to something higher, some better level of existence... that is the goal.
At least.. I always thought so.