Yup. Instead of running / going to the gym, or even packing for that matter (NOTHING is packed), I sit at my computer and blog as though there are people out there who actually care about whether or not I did my workout, what my wedding plans are, etc.
*sigh*
I think it's the whole concept of feeling like maybe you're not alone. maybe there are people out there who can totally relate and you don't have to keep everything all bottle up inside. I wish I had a girlfriend, a real, live bonifide girlfriend. I have two friends I met within the last year and a half -- girls from my church. We occasionally get together and do stuff, (one of whom tricked me into trying on a wedding dress), but we are not close enough to be really real with, if you know what I mean. I don't feel at all comfortable opening up to the one (she just repeats everything, or talks about the personal stuff you shared with her to you in a room full of people at regular volume. I can't believe how many times she's done this!) Anyway, the other one, is very closed up and withdrawn and refuses to open up to me, though she is the one I know I could trust and open up to, but it not being mutual makes for a very difficult close relationship.
I moved alot as a child, and never went to school, so though I had the occasional playmate (if we were living in a neighborhood), I never had any friends. Back then they were all guy friends anyway, cuz I was such a tomboy. I had a boy's bike (I would never ride a sissy, banana seat bike; I wanted the blue and black BMX that the boy rode standing up, with one foot on steering and one on seat!). And I got, lol. For my 7th birthday. I was so short I had to stick it in the street while I stood on the curb just to get on.
Anyway, my family was....strange. I don't want to divulge too much, but it was very cult-like. I wasn't really allowed to have friends, one of many reasons I wasn't allowed to go to school. And because of the abuse by my father (not sexual, but very hard to explain -- it was emotional and psychological and if there was ever a list called: How to destroy your daughter's self-esteem and make her feel absolutely worthless, and never be good enough or deserve love, teach her she must earn forgiveness for even the slightest flaw and even then will have any past mistakes thrown in her face to prove her worthlessness so that she lives life almost 2 decades later so full of shame at even the slightest mistake and often feeling like she doesn't deserve to exist because she isn't good enough/earned the right to....if there was such a list, my father followed it to a T for 31/2 years (from 14 to 17 when I got married and ran away, the first time).
Anyway, I have very little social skills and often feel very socially awkward. I run and hide anytime I see someone I know in a store because 1) I am ashamed at how ugly I look, and 2) I have no idea what to say and just stammer and look stupid after I manage a weak "hi". So as you can see, a very shy and withdrawn person who is terrified of meeting new people would have much difficulty making friends. *sigh*
Now that is not so say I am not better now. I am. My DF has an ex who was anti-social, abusive, broke up every friendship he had, and isolated him from his parents. When I visited/met them last Christmas and some old friends of his came over I noticed there were all outside (the friends) in the snow. He was out there too, and so I just grabbed my coat and told his mom I was going out to introduce myself / let myself be introduced. She was almost in tears, so happy that he was with a "normal" person. And I did, with no fear of shame, etc. I am very secure in his love for me (and I've never been that way any other man before) and am not fearful to meet new people. That however, doesn't mean I suddenly know how to be a social butterfly, or make friends, or get people (who have a million friends already) to not only add me to their friend list, but want me to be their best friend. Most people's best friends stem form childhood, high school, or college. I had none of those experiences.
But anyway, I do have alot of acquaintances now, because I will just walk up to people and say hi. I find so often that I look at people (especially thin, beautiful girls) like they are not a real person. They are perfect and their very existence makes it very clear that I am worthless. I have found however, that if I say something, anything, and they respond, it often shows me that they are a person. And probably a nice person. And probably have problems of their own (though most likely not looming homelessness). And that they feel not good enough or not pretty enough or at least have bad mirror days too.
The other day there was this girl on the treadmill beside me. Pretty face, thin. Probably a size 4, maybe 6 (I didn't stare that long). I started feeling so fat as I ran beside her. She ran a full mile straight (quite impressive) where as I walk/run/walk for 3 miles. I tried to ignore the feelings of shame creeping up, tried to buy myself in my Koontz book. For the most part, she never looked at me, I never looked at her. She was very focused, I was trying very hard to be focused. But the point is, when she finished her mile, she was breathless and cooling down and I noticed she was in long sleeves. I looked straight at her and said, "Aren't you hot?"
She took her ipod earpiece out and I repeated myself and she gave a half laugh and said yes but she wanted to sweat it out. She went back to her workout and I went back to mine, but in that instant she was no longer this perfect model-lookalike who was everything I wasn't. She was just a person. She was human. Sure she was thinner than me, but she was just a girl, a girl trying to find her way in this world as much as I was.
That probably makes no sense. And I have just spent the last 45 minutes writing my third blog post of the day and even if I want to sit here and imagine that the whole world, or even just a handful of girls, are out there hinging on every word I write and can't wait to see what else happens in the drama of my life, I will never get thin or fit into my wedding dress by sitting on my butt and blogging. So I must go, and hopefully workout.
Wish me luck!
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