My Therapist Says I Need To Make Friends

I’m lying. My therapist is amazing.

What actually happened was that I told her that I was lonely. I told her that I wished I had more community around me that had interests that aligned with my interests, and expectations that aligned with my expectations. My therapist told me I needed to be two things: vulnerable and courageous.

Vulnerability. Being vulnerable. Ick. I’d rather just bury myself into the crevices of a rocky beach where the waves can mask the sound of my sorrow, and let my bones opalize. Having gone through multiple rounds of crisis and reflection, I’m just fully comprehending now that because being vulnerable is not something I’m used to, it’s not something I choose for myself. I am a curated blob of all the things I think you should be seeing as an external viewer in this battle between all the different factions of myself. I am both gladiators in the fighting pit, and you, my dear reader, the emperor. What you don’t know (or maybe you already do, because everyone’s a degree of fake on the internet) is that the fight was already decided long before the performance.

That’s the scary thing about being vulnerable, right? Going into something when you’re not sure of the outcome is the most anxiety-inducing thing. Here is where courage comes into play. It’s funny how that is. I’d always thought of myself as brave, as someone who doesn’t hesitate to experience new things, or even, someone who is able to do the hard things… as long as I’m prepared.

I think the opposite of vulnerability is over-planning. And that over-planning is a symptom of being afraid. For me, anxiety is the little voice inside my head letting me know all about the different ways things could go wrong. When it comes to being vulnerable, there’s no scenario my head won’t make up to tell me it’s a bad idea. My interests are too strange. My thoughts aren’t eloquent enough. I’m infringing on other people’s journeys. I’d dug myself this hole because I wasn’t strong enough to get over the feeling of wanting to make my parents proud. I fucking love childhood trauma.

Honestly, the best-case scenario is that no one really cares. I don’t want to be perceived. I want to be seen. Maybe the bravest I can be right now is enough to just get by, to get me out of bed, but what if that’s enough? What if that’s all I really needed to do to start? I’ve shown up as myself, as myself as I could be, anxiety attacks, and all, and decided, I’m going to face the day.

I don’t think I’m ever going to be the brave hobbit Gandalf wants me to be, but I have heart, and if I open up a little bit, I’ll find that I have a Sam. And for those who don’t relate to my Lord of the Rings analogy, what I’m trying to say is that I’ll always be afraid, but if I take the time to realize that’s okay, that I’m allowed to be afraid, that I’m allowed to be open about the journey that I’m on as well, I could not only find and re-discover all the relationships that have gotten me here, but also open up avenues to new ones.

So, here I am, and here are just a few things that I think are cool, and I’m hoping you think so, too.

• Shibari: The Japanese Art of Rope Bondage. I love the aesthetic. It’s such a vibe.
• Even darkness must pass.
• I have a bookstagram where I’d like to post more book and journaling-related things this year, and a genre that I’ve been super into lately is Monster Romance. My favourite monsters have been arachnids and dragons.
• There’s this thing I like to put in my coffee and I think it’s been really helping my nails. I want to be able to explore more about good thing we can put in our bodies that isn’t very expensive groceries.