Trueself’s Appalling Lack of Social Skills

Or Why Trueself has no Friends

The last few therapy sessions we have dealt with (as I sat with arms crossed in front of me; can you say body language?) my lack of friends. Perhaps you could have guessed that from some of my recent posts here. In addition, I attended a lecture last month at school on the topic of bullying. I shuddered a few times during the talk as I vividly relived memories from my childhood. What is amazing to me though is that during that lecture was the first time I ever got the message (it may have been said to me before, but I never got it before) that what happened to me as a kid was (1) completely wrong and (2) not my fault.

This particular topic can cause me more tears than almost any other. My perception of myself is that I am a complete and utter failure at being a friend. The conclusion I draw from that is that I am completely unlikable and not worthy of friendship. (Yes, I tend to overgeneralize a lot and always look on the negative side of things. What of it?) The truth of the matter is that I am so scared of being hurt by people that when friendship gets too close I immediately and definitively push it away. Better for me to push others away than risk being hurt one more time I always say. Thus I become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I expect to be friendless. I push friendship away. My expectation is met. Way to go Trueself!

Case in Point
Since moving to LNJ I thought I was developing a real close friendship with C, even named her my bestest best friend over there in the cast of characters on this blog. It seemed like that was where we were heading for a while. We did things together. We chatted occasionally. We had some good talks together. Then it started to close in on me, and I pushed away.

Now because she was my hairdresser we should have continued to see each other at least every 6 weeks or so for routine color and haircuts. However, due to my financial situation I gave up my salon appointments. I’ve let my hair go back to its natural color and let it grow out long and scraggly as I just can’t see spending money that I don’t have on vanity. Even though I explained to C my reason for not coming to the salon I suspect that she doesn’t believe me even though if she were to see my hair she would have ample evidence. So the combination of me pushing away plus being embarrassed at being able to no longer afford going to the salon means that I have lost a friendship that very much meant something to me, but I’m afraid to do anything about it for fear I can’t resurrect the friendship anyway.

Getting back to the point, and I might just have one in here somewhere if I look hard enough, I need to work on me to make things better. I need to work on me because I am the only one I can change. I can’t change anyone else (much as I would like to sometimes, particularly those of you who disagree with me) nor can I change anything that is in the past. All I can do is change me in the present. I can change my attitude. I can change how I react to people. I can change my self-talk (I loathe the psychobabble, I really do, so forgive my use of it here). I can change the things I think and say and do.

The fact of the matter remains however that I’d much rather change you than me. After all, if I could just change you and get you to see that I’m always right and know better than you and that things would be a lot better if you just did things my way then life would be grand. If I could just make you treat me the way I want to be treated, and never upset me, and never disappoint me, and never be mean to me, then we’d have no problem.

Yeah, well that ain’t happening . . . nor should it. My head is smart enough to know what a fallacy that kind of thinking is. My heart isn’t so sure it wants to give it up, but my head knows better. My heart tried to start an uprising against my head by instigating my other organs but they pretty much wanted to play Sweden and stay out of it. Actually my stomach was more interested in playing Mexico than Sweden, but I think that had more to do with guacamole, and perhaps margaritas, than anything else.

Have you noticed how I use humor to deflect things when I get too close to something uncomfortable for me? You have? Yeah, me too, and you’re right. The humor isn’t all that funny. Sorry.

Anyway, when it comes right down to it I fear that much of what I do to keep from having friendships is just due to downright appalling social skills. No, I don’t mean that I belch loudly and then laugh about it in public. I’m not quite that crude. I lack things that are more subtle than that. I lack an ability to read people, to know when they are approachable and when they aren’t. I lack the confidence to look people in the eye, or to say hello first, or to ask if I can sit at their table, or to invite them to join me. I have no idea how to introduce myself to strangers in such a way that will keep them from looking like they are annoyed at the intrusion. I have no idea how to join a conversation at a party. I have no clue how to behave in social situations other than to sit in the corner and try my best to disappear into the background. Now if someone is actually brave enough to try to penetrate the Trueself Force Field of Anti Social Behavior ™ they will likely find themselves chatting with the TS who will quite happily chat their ear off. TS will feel such relief at having someone to talk to that she will quite likely make quite the pest of herself to this kindhearted person until the person is aching to get away. Again with the appalling social skills! Now add to this my fear of actually letting people in if they can find a way to overlook all the lack of social skills and there’s just very little chance of me developing deep and meaningful friendships.

I think I should start with trying to hone my social skills. Until I feel confident that I am not a bumbling idiot in social situations I don’t think I can progress much further. After that, I can work on not pushing people away when friendships start to form.

BTW, it’s incidents like the one after the basketball game a while back that just send me into a tailspin wondering if I lack all sense of propriety. I have such a perception of my own lack of social skills that I immediately put the blame on me when interactions go awry. Thank you to those who commented and let me know that I wasn’t the problem in that situation.
Also, my lack of comments lately to your comments is all about me withdrawing, being afraid to engage and converse. I’m just riding through a tough moment in time right now, trying to claw my way into seeing myself as being okay. I’m trying not to push all of my readers away, but that is my natural tendency (see above for how I push friendships away) after all. It’s scary that there are a few of you out there who would actually agree to be called my friend (tears well up just typing that sentence). It’s scary to let you in.

Ask me sometime to tell you about the three friends I had who died within a relatively short time frame several years ago. It’s another piece to the puzzle of why I push people away.

I’ll bet Drama just can’t wait for my visit this weekend after reading this post. Don’t worry girl, I think I’m beyond the pushing away part with you. I already tried that, and for some crazy reason you stuck with me in spite of me. You just might be the closest thing I have to a best friend right now. If that doesn’t push you away, nothing will!

The L Word

Spent last night with the bi group. We had a marathon watching session of The L Word, the Showtime series about lesbians living and loving in LA. I had never seen it before. We started with the pilot episode and watched the first nine episodes of the first season. I slept through parts of episode 6 and virtually all of episodes 7 and 8. However, what I did watch I liked.



C attended also and rode with me. She often rides with me since her car isn't in very good shape. She annoyed me more this weekend than ever before. Suffice it to say that the crush I had on her a while back has long since dissipated. I still consider her to be my best friend, but she really has some traits that annoy the crap out of me. She can't be on time to save her life. She was adamant that we had to leave town by 4:00 yesterday so we would get to the party on time. I wanted to leave after the Illini basketball game was over and arrive at the party late. Oh no, she had to be there no later than the stated starting time of the party which was 6:00. Given that it would only take an hour and a half to get there we didn't need to leave by 4:00, but she called me twice yesterday afternoon to make sure I was going to pick her up at 4:00. Being just an itty bitty bit passive aggressive I decided I would leave my house at 4:00 so it would be between 4:10 and 4:15 when I picked her up. Just as I was leaving the house C called my cell phone again and asked if I was at her house yet. I said no, that I'd just left home and was on my way. She wasn't even home! She had gone out and wanted me to wait for her when I got to her house. Good grief. So I drove to her house and called her to find out how soon she'd be there. She told me she was in the checkout line at the grocery store, and she would be there in a few minutes. Around 4:30 she showed up then loaded my car down with more crap than I would need to take for a week long trip.

I could go on, but I won't. Suffice it to say that for the entire event C continued to do little crap that annoyed me no end. Maybe I was just in a bad mood. Maybe I'm having PMS. Maybe I'm just an evil bitch with no patience.

The party, in spite of C annoying me, was a lot of fun. We had some great munchies, even some really healthy options like fresh veggies with hummus and fresh fruit with a chocolate fountain (c'mon we had to have chocolate, we are women after all). I found out that blue raspberry vodka mixed with cranberry juice is really tasty. I found out that I'm the only one in our group who doesn't smoke weed. I've got nothing against those who smoke weed, and I've tried it a couple of times, but it just doesn't do anything for me so I don't see a reason to smoke it. Watching The L Word with other bi women was fun as we discussed which of the women on the show were turn ons and which turn offs and why. We are an interesting group as we all thought that the women on The L Word are too damned skinny with barely any boobs. Bleah. We all agree we like our women to have a little more flesh on the bones.

All in all, it was a good weekend. It would have been a great weekend if the Illini would have beaten Wisconsin today and made it into the big dance. Oh well, can't have everything I suppose.

So How Was Your Weekend?

This was a tough weekend. I’m glad it’s over. I don’t often look forward to heading back to work on Monday as being an escape, but today it is.

W spent the weekend being an ass. N spent the weekend being victimized both by W being an ass and by the ensuing fights between W and me. I spent the weekend trying not to lose my cool but losing it twice, once in front of W and N together and once just in front of N. I later apologized to N. I didn’t apologize to W.

Fortunately, there were moments of respite during the weekend. C called me Friday night and invited me to go see the movie Juno with her and another friend. I went. We had a great time. The movie was wonderful. If you haven’t seen it you should. The best part of that evening for me though was the group hug at the end of the evening before we went our separate ways. I don’t get enough human touch these days. Then on Saturday I did get to attend the event at church and had the evening to myself so that was pleasant. Even yesterday I got a bit of peace as I slept late after struggling to sleep on Saturday night, and skipped church while W and N went.

So it isn’t that there weren’t good parts to the weekend. It isn’t that W and I spent the entire weekend fighting. It’s just that we spent every minute that we were together fighting, and that is too much and unacceptable and not good for any of the three of us.

Oh yeah, and another good thing. I have a date with a woman from the bi group at the end of March. We are attending a concert together here in LNJ. She lives a couple of hours away and will be crashing at my house overnight after the concert. She and I have been flirting with one another more and more, including her sending me a single rose on V Day. I am looking forward to seeing if this develops into something beyond friendship. If so, I guess I’ll have to add another letter to my alphabet soup!

And let me share one last good thing from the weekend. I chatted on Friday evening with a couple, and we may get together one of these days for some adult type fun. I met her through blogging, and we’ve chatted on Yahoo before. I “met” her husband Friday evening on Yahoo and the three of us chatted for a bit. They are about four hours away from me so we wouldn’t be able to get together often, but it sounds like we would have a lot of fun when we do.

When I really step back and look at it, new opportunities and possibilities abound in my life. I just need to get myself to the place where I can fully enjoy them, and getting W out of the my house is the first step.

Happy Valentine's Day!

Let me start by saying that I had a really vitriolic post written for today. It was downright nasty and reflected my mood from when I wrote it a few days ago. However, as I have thought about it I decided that nothing good will come from me copping an attitude. So instead of my original post, I am going to post here roses to each of several people who deserve them:

Rose #1:
To N, my boy, my son, my reason for living. He is the best son a mom could have, not to mention that he is an awesome soccer player and all around athlete.

Rose #2:
To W, for coming around and working reasonably with me the last few days on making this whole separation and divorce thing work and keeping the focus on doing the best we can for N.

Rose #3:
To BJ, for sitting down with me last weekend and clearing the air, allowing me to move on in peace without lingering doubts and questions.

Rose #4:
To K, for spending this evening with me and not mentioning when I set it up anything about it being Valentine's Day.

Rose #5:
To C, for being my bestest best friend and helping me stay sane through this crazy time.

Rose #6:
To Drama, for the empathy and understanding, for being there daily via email for me to share the ups and downs on the rollercoaster with me.

Now, I hope each and every one of you who reads this goes and has a really fine Valentine's Day.

Time for Change

Yesterday after work I had an appointment to get my hair done. Fortunately for me, C is my hair stylist as well as my bestest best friend so we had a blast. I told her it was time for a big change, but I didn't know for sure what I wanted. We talked about it for a bit. New cut? New color? Both? What would it be?

We finally came up with a new cut, not much different than before but a bit shorter and with bangs, and a new color, very different than before in a beautiful auburn red. The color is very similar to what I used to have before I went blond a couple of years ago. If I may say so, I look smokin' hot with the new hair. It is awesome. Amazing what new hair can do for a girl's outlook on life.

As usual I react to huge life crisis with a change in my hair.

If I get a chance in the next day or two I'll post a picture of the new hair.
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Noon update:
Okay, here they are. Pictures of my new hair, which actually looks a lot like my old hair before I did the awful blond years. Why on earth did I ever go blond?


I know, they aren't great pictures, but they're the best I could do with a camera phone in the employee restroom.

That's What Friends Are For

I’ve decided that another person in my life deserves an initial to stand for her name when I speak of her. Since moving to LNJ she has become my absolute bestest best friend in the world. We’ll be referring to her here as C. C is the one that I had a huge crush on that wasn’t returned. It’s all good now though. I have ratcheted down the romantic/lustful feelings for her, and we are just really good friends now (although she does have a very nice rack that is impossible not to admire on occasion). She’s also the one that went shopping with me on the Magnificent Mile, and one of the women that shared my appreciation of Diamond so it isn’t that I haven’t mentioned her here. I just hadn’t given her a “name” I suppose because too many times I’ve named people only to have them exit my life in such a short while that it makes me sorry I took the time to name them.

C understands so many of the things I tell her when I cry on her shoulder. She has been through the bad marriage thing, and the staying in the bad marriage too long thing too. She has been through the clandestine relationship thing, and the NSA FWB good times thing. She understands me. She is always there for me. She took me to lunch today so I could whine and bitch and moan and cry and snivel and just generally flounder around in my self-pity and grief. Now, would I be there for her in similar circumstances? You betcha! A while back, she called on a Saturday evening and asked if I was available for dinner so she could have a good pity party for herself, and of course I said yes. We went out. We ate too much. We complained about life, and I listened to her tale of woe. We laughed at the idiocy of life. She felt better, and I was honored that she chose me to listen and help her out.

It is great having a best friend like C. I can honestly say that I haven’t had a good close friend like C since my high school best friend and I lost track of one another some 25 years ago. That’s a long time not to have a bestest best friend, someone to confide in and tell your troubles to. For too long W stood in that role, and in some cases still does (remember me crying on his shoulder last week over BJ dumping me?), but I can’t, and shouldn’t, count on W to be there for me in that role any longer. In some ways BJ has stood in that role in the last year or more, and in some cases still does (I called him last weekend to cry on his shoulder about me dumping W), but I can’t, and shouldn’t, count on BJ to be there for me anymore. C couldn’t have come into my life at a better time than in the past year. She’s shared my ups and my downs without complaint. She’s there to support me when I need it, drive for me when I was healing, drag me out into the world when I’m tempted to become a recluse, and save me from becoming a bitter old woman. She is a single mom, just as I will be soon, and we will watch each others’ kids when needed and back each other up.

I am so grateful that at this time in my life, when I’m dealing with some really tough stuff, that I have a friend like C. What would I do without picking up the phone and hearing C say to me “Hey girlfriend! How ya’ doin’?” Little things can mean so much.