Social Abuse

(also copied from an email):

sad to say, even for those who do care to me, I’m completely incapable of accepting those feelings (or any for that matter, including my own), and probably won’t be able to for a significantly long time. this fact was made obvious to me when Jerry, the most important person in my life, died. after a while, I became depressed, but not because of a sense of loss, but because I realized that I did not have it in me to feel loss.

this would not depress me had it always been this way, because if that were the case, I would not have any standard to compare against, and so the worst I would feel is “left-out” (since I know everyone else has such feelings, and I don’t. but there was a point in my life when I was extremely sentimental, even proudly calling myself a “hopeless romantic”. back then, I knew how to cry.

If I cannot feel loss even when the most important person to me dies, that makes me a (to be cynical) heartless bastard. but there’s nothing I can do about it, at least for now.

so it really doesn’t make any difference (to me) whether other’s care about me or not (although this is a depressing way of explaining it, pretty much- you have no reason to worry about it.

I was pondering this question the other day: If socializing with/being around other people makes me feel even more alone than when I’m by myself, why am I overall more happy when with other people?

the answer: when with other people, even though I feel alone, I can pretend that I’m not alone, and these “lies” are justified by the physical and verbal presence of people, with every bit of interaction supporting this illusion.

also, when with others, it’s easier to forget I exist, because others around me exist.

by interacting with others, I can virtually become them (take on their identity), by forgetting I exist and pretending that I am them. because life feels like a dream, and even more so when with others, such illusions are no different than reality: by interacting with other people, I leave my own dream, and enter other’s dreams.

Because they are not alone, I am not alone, because I am them. and because it’s a dream, I don’t have to worry about it being real, and once I end those interactions, the dream(s) end, and I feel alone again. Due to the psychological high of the dream-hopping, I end up even more depressed then I was to begin with. 

That’s probably the main reason why I don’t socialize with people of my own incentive- any time I socialize at all- every single time I need to either be given an excuse, or invent one (and 90 % of the time it’s the former).

There is no difference to me between drugs, people, or any other “addiction”

I’m against the concept of addiction, because it implies that certain things are more addictive to others, and that only a few things are addictive. When people refer to “addiction”, they are referring to things that are both “needed” (significantly desired) and generally in short supply, either due to substance-control or if the cost of maintenance is high. Or in the case of sex- because most people don’t want to get laid every day (since there are more important things to do? –and don’t even say they do– otherwise they would have sex every day- which most people don’t, obviously).

In reality though, addiction refers to when a person has an unhealthy need of any particular. while I’m not addicted to socialization, it is a drug for me. Like all drugs (sex included) the more you have it, the less of a high you get (and so it doesn’t feel as good. That’s why people don’t have sex every day BTW (that and sometimes they really do have better things to do :P ) But with most drugs, socialization (in my case) included, the high is followed by a low that usually equates in intensity to that of the high+ the level of your original state- resulting in a temporary super-low. 

That’s what happens after I leave other’s dreams- when I’m all alone, I realize that it was just a dream, accept it, and become depressed- many times very depressed. If you remember that one day, after we wrestled for the first time, and I opened up to you a little bit– but when I emailed you after getting home, I said that I wanted to cut things off– for us to never meet or speak again (followed by a long period of silence, and then an offer by you to watch a baseball game, which I turned down.)

This depression is further compounded by a feeling of fakeness. Even when with other people, I feel fake, but it’s only a small lingering feelings, which is easy to ignore, because I am not myself. But when I’m by myself, that feeling is let loose, and adds to my already vulnerable state. As I realize that I was not even dreaming my own dreams, but merely leeching off the dreams of other’s, I can’t help but feel pathetic, and out of control.

I don’t (nor does anyone) get any comfort from the fact that there’s nothing I can do about it, so it’s not my fault- rather, I suffer because I can’t do anything about it, even though I want to. 

this is what I was talking about when I told you the following (in my email “misunderstandings”):

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I say “people”, because I am different, I’m disconnected. by being with others, I only become self-aware of my isolation. even if eventually, I might be able to get over such feelings, would it be worth the torture I would have to experience?

I’m tired of escaping, tired of isolating myself, but what other option do I have? I’m afraid of being with other people, but my fears are validated. I can offset those fears, but to do so requires hiding from myself and others, letting a false-self absorb the pain, and put on a good face. In doing so, I can observe through the mask, but can one call that real? 

to others it might be considered “real”, and to you it might, but if so, then that is pure manipulation. I might feel justified manipulating if I got something substantial out of it, but like this- I’m taking God away from people just for “status quo“. there’s no way I could be at ease with such a trade.