I don’t Have Close Friends. And I’m Okay With it.

Earlier this year I had two best friends. Ones I knew since 8th grade. In fact we all now attend the same college. Had is the important word. Both of these friendships came to an end. The friendships ran its course. But it doesn’t mean that it didn’t suck going through that crap. I neglected possible friendships because I thought these two girls are all I needed. That they were my true friends. But they weren’t. One girl I strongly dislike and want to punch her in the face. The other, I sometimes miss. I  hate them both for making me feel vulnerable, for taking away my happiness. But I guess it’s my fault for placing my happiness in other peoples hands when I shouldn’t have.

Now it’s my senior year of college and I have zero close friends. But I think I am okay with  that. I should feel lonely. But to be honest I feel like I’m finally getting to know myself as a person, that I would have never experienced had I had these girls in my life. I realized that I’m my own best friend, I learned that I have Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I learned that I’m not passionate about my major, that I’m an introvert and I fucking love it. That I’m bi-curious, that I want friends who put in effort, don’t talk shit, and are genuine. And maybe some of these things I would have learned while still maintaining friendships with them, but I feel like you can really get to know yourself during the darkest moments of your life. So I thank them. I thank them for letting me come to find who I am.

I hope to one day not feel this hurt still lingering towards them. But until that day happens. I’m just going to focus on myself and my soul.

My Mental Health

This week has been a lot better then the previous ones. For quite a few reasons. I finally was able to put a name to my feelings of anxiety and worries that I have been experiencing probably since high school; Generalized Anxiety Disorder otherwise known as GAD. Last Tuesday a physician at the clinic on my campus diagnosed me with this disorder. I won’t go into too much detail on the specifics of what I have been going through symptoms wise. But let’s just say it’s not a fun time. How am I managing it now that I have found the problem? Medications and therapy.

With the latter I have been in therapy on and off for a couple of years. It has not helped at all to deal with my anxiety so I decided to try medications. I was prescribed Fluoxetine 20 mg. I don’t think I have yet felt the effects of the medication. Which make since it takes 4 to 6 weeks for it to come into effect. I hope that the medication and therapy combined will help me to manage or cope with my anxiety. As I continue to my newfound mental health journey, I will write all of my experiences. The good, bad, and ugly.

Why Do I Give a “F” of What People Think of me?

This morning I woke up happy. Which is weird for me because for the past six months I have dread getting out of bed and having to socialize with people around me and the world in general. I had an epiphany this morning while conducting my usual coffee regimen via Keurig. Why do others opinions of me matter then my own opinions of myself? Why do I give those people, no, why do I let those people have power over me? The only opinions that should matter are mine alone. So why do I not do this?

Last night one of my roommates made a comment when I got up from the couch in the living room to return my blanket to my room, “Are you going to hide?”. I looked at her perplexed and instantly was annoyed, “No, just putting my blanket back”. My thoughts for the whole hour after this incident: “Am I antisocial?” “Am I in my room a lot?” “Am I socially awkward?”. It wasn’t until the next morning I realized why I do care about her comment? Why did I let her comment affect me? The only opinion that should matter is mine and mine alone.

I’m an introvert, and I am proud of it. I find solace in quietness. When I am alone I feel no pressure to not be myself. I’m more creative and spiritually inclined when I bask in the quietness. Quietness is my best friend, my lover, my family. I don’t need to be surrounded by people in order to be happy. I’m okay being alone. I am my own best friend. You might see me as a person who is always in my room, and though that is directly true…I see it as a comfort. A place I can recharge from the outside world. From you.

So this morning I woke up and realized that I’m done letting peoples opinions affect me. I am who I am. I can try to be an extrovert all damn day but that would only be doing a disservice to me and my soul. I am an introvert. And I LOVE it.

What is new…

My fourth and unfortunately not my last year of college has started recently. I wanted this year to be so much better then last year. I wanted to create genuine friendships, get out of my comfort zone, be the person I have always wanted to be. It’s the end of the third week of school, on a Sunday. I should be happy. Right? It’s the start of a new year, I can be a total new person. And yet I’m in tears, listening to depressing songs feeling completely lonely and vulnerable. It gets worse, I was so tempted to text or KIK (not physically kick, but the app KIK). I haven’t talked to this guy in months. And yet I stared at my phone contemplating  reaching out to him. How desperate I must seem…to message an ex out of loneliness when almost two years ago he was cheating on me. I always thought I had somewhat of a good self-esteem, but I guess I don’t.

I’m seeing a therapist for my social anxiety and maybe depression, though I have no clue if I even have the latter. For sure I know for the fact I have the former. Which is whole other ordeal for another time.

How can I be happy? How does a person be happy? I feel like a shell. I feel empty inside and fake on the outside. I fake EVERYTHING. This year I told myself that I can be a new person, I can be outgoing and bubbly. That is what I portray myself to everyone. But I’m not outgoing, I’m not bubbly. I love reading books and enjoy red wine. I love and feel safe when I’m at home. I don’t care to socialize, I don’t care to drink alcohol at a party or go to parties in fact. And yet I portray all of these things to the relationships in my life, except for my family. They are the only ones that actually know me.

It’s a depressing thought knowing I struggle to be myself around others in fear they wouldn’t like my quirky, goofy self. So I adapt. I adapt to be like “them”. By the end of the day I’m tired. I have no friends in my life who know the real me. Heck I barely know who I am as a person. I only know one thing. I’m tired of faking. I want to be ME. I want to be HAPPY. I want incredible friendships that are genuine and trusting and loving. I want to fall in love with myself and in a romantic partner. I want to know who I am as a person. I want…everything in life. Money, love, a husband one day, genuine friends, an amazing career, the continuous love of my family. God in my life. So how do I do it? How do I get these things??