Left Out. (Diary Logs #7)

Hello Readers! I was touched by all your comments on my last post about the Trauma Victim. Believe me, I know how it feels & I’m glad to know that you all know it too.

Here’s another fictional post about not belonging, about trying to fit in & constantly failing & how maybe it’s okay, about feeling disconnected.

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Source

Dear Diary,
It was just like every other day, probably worse. I was in the canteen, sitting all by myself, reading John Green’s new novel. I understood the main character on a whole different level because she suffered from anxiety quite as much as I did. When I was there reading, some of my friends came & sat on the same table as me. To be polite, I closed the book. They were discussing about some trip they were planning & they didn’t even ask me to go with them. So, after 10 minutes of humiliation, I got up & left without saying a word. My ‘thought spiral’ had begun. I know, you’d think for a person suffering from anxiety & who chooses not to speak much, why would I want to go on a trip with them? But, sadly, that is never the point & even more sadly everyone makes that the point. It is important to ask someone & leave them with a choice, rather than shutting them out completely. If you don’t do that, you’re just feeding into their insecurities, doubts & anxiety.
So, diary, if I had the courtesy to close my BOOK for them, why didn’t they have the courtesy to just casually ask me to come for the trip?
When will I ever belong with someone?
When will I feel comfortable in my own skin, to take a step ahead & be comfortable with others?
When will I openly speak what exactly I feel, without rehearsing it 5 times?
Ever?
I want to be capable to talk about what I did over the weekend. Or start up a conversation & end it smoothly without awkward silences. Or know how to easily slide into the conversation becoming talker from listener. I want to not get panic attacks every time I want to have a conversation without rehearsing it in my head 5 times. I want such friends in my life who’d understand me for that, stick with me through that, so that eventually I’ll be confident enough to speak without rehearsing in front of them! Not someone who’ll single me out. Not someone who’ll frame me different. Not someone who’ll take me for granted.

If I had a wish, I wouldn’t wish for me to be more normal. I’d wish a true friend, despite my non-normalcy.