Lostinthemusic
Well-known member
Hello, as this is my first post, let me tell you about how it came to be here. Lets start with the basics though; I'm a 20 year old male, I was raised in Seattle and go to school just south of the Canadian boarder, and, as my name might imply, I am very much in love with music. To be honest, I don't know where to start, as the story of this post is in many regards the story of my life. I've done a lot of thinking about my past and personality, but I don't know who to talk about it with, so sorry if this gets long.
I'll start where it seems most logical, with some background. For as long as I can remember I've been pretty shy (I’m not diagnosed with SAD, but the various descriptions I’ve read fit me pretty well). Hard to say what exactly was the cause as there probably wasn't just one. However, one thing that does come to mind is that my parents divorced very early. I only have one memory I can think of from before the divorce, which, as it happens, is of me asking my Dad what is wrong between him and my Mom. Hard to say how accurate this is after so many years of never letting it out of my head, though. As I found out recently, I easily build things up in my head to be immensely more important than they need to be, unfortunately, this is usually in a negative way. Although I've been using cognitive techniques I picked up in class to help with this kind of thing recently (i.e. when you've convinced yourself that someone doesn't like you for some reason, ask yourself "why?" and give it some real thought, I often find many more possibilities than what my mind usually jumps to first (i.e. the worst possibility)).
I'll go quickly through the school years for now. I had a best friend, I'll call him Al, who I grew up with. We did everything that you might expect boys who were best friends to do. Then in seventh grade he moved away. I remember the last time I saw him before he moved. I didn't really know what to make of it, I knew he was moving but I didn't know how to say goodbye. A hesitation at the door and an unsure look back, then I didn't see him again except for a handful of times up until today, and each time we grow farther apart. I still use the leather key chain we each made in an after school shop class, but I don't know if that's a good or bad idea. I still can’t say I’ve had another friend on the same level that Al was on.
Another, yet more relevant, event happened in seventh grade, the most embarrassing event of my life. Early one morning I started to feel some stomach pain in class. Soon I started to feel worse, I left for the bathroom, but I was afraid I was too late. In the end I was, I managed to avoid the worst of it, but still…I now had a noticeable amount of sh*t on my pants with no idea what to do and no one I felt could help me. In an act of what I assume was denial, I decided to stay the rest of the day and try and hide it. When I came back to class everyone smelled it within a minute or two, I pretended I didn’t know what happened, got up last at the end of class, and as I was leaving the room, looked back to find a look of “that’s what I thought” on my teacher’s face, she didn’t say a thing as I left the room. Through each class I went like this, all the while keeping my backpack as low as possible and sticking close to any open windows or doors I could find. I had a friend confront me at some point, saying in front of some others that he thought it was me. I, of course, denied it. My one saving grace all day was that it was hot outside and all the windows on the bus ride home were open. I don’t actually remember what happened the next day, but what I do know is that I bottled up that experience until about two months ago when I went to my school’s counseling center for the first time. I still haven’t told my parents, or any other family, about it. But in letting go, first to my counselor and now to you all, I hope to stop the cycle of endless self-criticism, self-consciousness, and loneliness that I have put myself through for so many years.
There is a lot more I could talk about, but as this is already over a page in Word, and I have plenty of time and a forum, I’ll cut myself off. The point of this post is to allow myself to open up to people and accept help. The reason it comes now, however, is that a gorgeous, smart, talented girl seems to be interested in me and every bone in my body wants to be with her, but I can’t shake the feeling of impending rejection, like I’ve reached too far and ended up pushing her away. Insecurities surely aided by the events above. She wouldn’t be my first girlfriend, but it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say so, either. I know other people have bigger problems, but thanks for reading if you got this far, if even one person out there can find comfort from this story it will have been worth it. I’m happy to have found a place where I can talk about things I would feel uncomfortable talking about face to face. Again, sorry about the length, I’ve wanted to get this off my chest, and out of my head, for a while.
I'll start where it seems most logical, with some background. For as long as I can remember I've been pretty shy (I’m not diagnosed with SAD, but the various descriptions I’ve read fit me pretty well). Hard to say what exactly was the cause as there probably wasn't just one. However, one thing that does come to mind is that my parents divorced very early. I only have one memory I can think of from before the divorce, which, as it happens, is of me asking my Dad what is wrong between him and my Mom. Hard to say how accurate this is after so many years of never letting it out of my head, though. As I found out recently, I easily build things up in my head to be immensely more important than they need to be, unfortunately, this is usually in a negative way. Although I've been using cognitive techniques I picked up in class to help with this kind of thing recently (i.e. when you've convinced yourself that someone doesn't like you for some reason, ask yourself "why?" and give it some real thought, I often find many more possibilities than what my mind usually jumps to first (i.e. the worst possibility)).
I'll go quickly through the school years for now. I had a best friend, I'll call him Al, who I grew up with. We did everything that you might expect boys who were best friends to do. Then in seventh grade he moved away. I remember the last time I saw him before he moved. I didn't really know what to make of it, I knew he was moving but I didn't know how to say goodbye. A hesitation at the door and an unsure look back, then I didn't see him again except for a handful of times up until today, and each time we grow farther apart. I still use the leather key chain we each made in an after school shop class, but I don't know if that's a good or bad idea. I still can’t say I’ve had another friend on the same level that Al was on.
Another, yet more relevant, event happened in seventh grade, the most embarrassing event of my life. Early one morning I started to feel some stomach pain in class. Soon I started to feel worse, I left for the bathroom, but I was afraid I was too late. In the end I was, I managed to avoid the worst of it, but still…I now had a noticeable amount of sh*t on my pants with no idea what to do and no one I felt could help me. In an act of what I assume was denial, I decided to stay the rest of the day and try and hide it. When I came back to class everyone smelled it within a minute or two, I pretended I didn’t know what happened, got up last at the end of class, and as I was leaving the room, looked back to find a look of “that’s what I thought” on my teacher’s face, she didn’t say a thing as I left the room. Through each class I went like this, all the while keeping my backpack as low as possible and sticking close to any open windows or doors I could find. I had a friend confront me at some point, saying in front of some others that he thought it was me. I, of course, denied it. My one saving grace all day was that it was hot outside and all the windows on the bus ride home were open. I don’t actually remember what happened the next day, but what I do know is that I bottled up that experience until about two months ago when I went to my school’s counseling center for the first time. I still haven’t told my parents, or any other family, about it. But in letting go, first to my counselor and now to you all, I hope to stop the cycle of endless self-criticism, self-consciousness, and loneliness that I have put myself through for so many years.
There is a lot more I could talk about, but as this is already over a page in Word, and I have plenty of time and a forum, I’ll cut myself off. The point of this post is to allow myself to open up to people and accept help. The reason it comes now, however, is that a gorgeous, smart, talented girl seems to be interested in me and every bone in my body wants to be with her, but I can’t shake the feeling of impending rejection, like I’ve reached too far and ended up pushing her away. Insecurities surely aided by the events above. She wouldn’t be my first girlfriend, but it wouldn’t be much of a stretch to say so, either. I know other people have bigger problems, but thanks for reading if you got this far, if even one person out there can find comfort from this story it will have been worth it. I’m happy to have found a place where I can talk about things I would feel uncomfortable talking about face to face. Again, sorry about the length, I’ve wanted to get this off my chest, and out of my head, for a while.
