On the Outside...

I've always been a loner. You know from previous posts that I have very few friends, and the reasons I give for not wanting more. But here's the thing -- Even loners get lonely. And sometimes, as much as I cherish my solitude, I find myself wishing I had more friends.

I think, on some level, I never really learned how to be social. My upbringing encouraged me to distance myself from the people around me. I was different, and other kids didn't like "different," so I stayed away. I'd been hurt by the people around me, the ones who were supposed to love and protect me, so I thought everyone would hurt me, and I stayed away. Every time I convinced myself that I could be wrong, that I should try and trust people, I wound up getting hurt again. So I stayed away. Even now, I keep people at a distance. People I shouldn't. The BF for example, my son, my sister, most of the friends I have. It's a survival instinct, because I know I'm not strong enough to have my feelings hurt anymore.

But then there are the times where I see groups of friends together. They're laughing, and having a good time, telling inside jokes, and passing out hugs and kisses liberally amongst themselves. I see them, and I wonder -- why can't I have something like that? Why can't I find a group of friends like that, to just have fun with?

I try. I go with my BF to see his friends, and try to fit in. I'm alternative lifestyle like they are, so I should be able to fit in, right? But while some of them are the sweetest, most loving, caring, generous people in the world, I still can't quite bring myself to truly be a part of their little group. It seems like no matter how hard I try, I'm always on the outside. On the outside, looking in. And I always end up feeling more lonely than if I'd just stayed at home by myself. Afterall, the TV never asks me why I'm so quiet, or if I'm okay because I look uncomfortable. The couch never whispers to my BF, asking if he's sure I'm having a good time.

It's times like those I wish desperately that I were normal, somehow. I get tired of being on the outside. I get tired of feeling like I don't belong. But I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to put myself out there, and just relax around other people (at least, not without getting really horribly drunk). I never learned. I always had to have my guard up, always had to be ready to defend myself, always had to be bracing myself for the pain and suffering others would inflict upon me.

Yeah, I was a victim, and I still am. I know it. And while it's not exactly an excuse... It's an explanation. Yes, I need to get past it. I need to let all that go, and move on with my life so I can be happy. But honestly... I don't know how.