I have internet again! The Comcast guy came yesterday and got it all hooked up for us. I felt kinda bad for him because it was raining pretty hard, and he had to do some wiring stuff outside. But we are now pinging an almost TWENTY TIMES the speed we were with Verizon. Seriously. With Verizon we were pinging between 0.3 and 0.4 Mbps, and with Comcast we’re pinging at 6.4 Mbps–for $6 more per month! Now I feel silly for not switching sooner.
So I promptly spent all night watching Doctor Who on Netflix. Because of the ECT, I’ve forgotten all but the biggest plot lines. It’s almost like watching it for the first time.
I’m realizing more and more that I’m lonely. I don’t actually know how real people make friends in the real world. There are people in my kung fu class I’m on friendly terms with, but no one I’d actually call a friend. My dojo in Tuscaloosa used to do all this stuff together outside of class, but this dojo doesn’t. I guess the problem is that I know how to be on friendly terms with people, but I don’t know how to go beyond that to actually making friends.
I haven’t had many close friends, and the ones I did have were accidents. Helen became my best friend in high school because we got grouped together for the annual creative writing get-to-know-everyone activity. In college, Jamie Rose sort of adopted me as a best friend immediately upon meeting me, and I have no idea why. Even at Riggs, Sarah and I became friends because a couple of us at the Loser Table were debating whether “The Waste Land” or “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” was Eliot’s best poem, and Sarah sat down and joined in with the opinion that Pound was better than Eliot any day, so it didn’t matter which of Eliot’s poems was better.
I’m not saying I don’t deeply appreciate these accidental friendships–I do. But it’s left me completely at a loss about how to initiate friendships. I end up always being the passive one, waiting for someone else to make the first move. Some of it is, I’m sure, fear of rejection, but mostly it’s just not knowing what to say or do. Which is even more embarrassing than fear of rejection.
I’ve been thinking a lot about doing volunteer work as a way to meet people (as well as to have more to do with my time), but I have no idea what I’d want to do. It’s weird–every decision now that I’m un-depressed feels like it’s this huge thing that’s going to decide my future. If I don’t pick the RIGHT volunteer job, I’ll never get a scholarship to UMass, and if I don’t get a scholarship, I’ll never be able to afford undergrad, and if I can’t afford undergrad I’ll never get to law school, and if I never get to law school I’ll end up homeless and freezing to death under a railroad bridge. Before, that stuff didn’t matter because I figured I’d just kill myself when things got bad. Now I WANT to live, but I’m terrified of messing something up because, in my mind, messing one thing up will ruin everything.
Wow, my head’s kind of a mess, isn’t it? This is why I need a therapist really, really bad. That and my eating’s still all screwy and I still haven’t told anyone and I’m about an inch from a full-scale relapse. Wanting to live is incredibly stressful.
Also, Ex-Boyfriend and I are back together, and I don’t know whether that’s a good thing or not.