I wrote an email to a friend yesterday and said that I often joke with my husband that I felt like an alien much of the time and the strange social machinations of the human beings around me were difficult to decipher.
I find myself in that situation again. I tried to reach out again among the humans and make social connections and once more I feel like the same thing that always happens, happened again. When I try to be around other people, I feel like there’s an expectation for me to fit into this round hole and as much as I try to do it, I just can’t because I am always going to be square.
I don’t know if it means that I can’t find connections with other people. I just don’t think that I can keep hoping that I am going to somehow work through all the trauma and one day become this amazing social butterfly. I’m not really sure that’s what I want anyway.
Everyone who ever met my mother absolutely loved her and thought she was wonderful, but she had told me that she felt no one liked her and she never found love in her entire life from anyone. At this moment, she is lying alone in a bed just waiting for death to come, and I know she must be feeling lonely. People don’t know what to think about me when they meet me. I am not a bubbly personality. I like to sit back and listen. I am not a casual friend. I am not ordinary and am very eccentric, almost to the point of being weird. Yet, I rather be accepting of myself than worry about making friends. I know that if I love myself and seek to love others, then it really doesn’t matter if anyone loves me back.
I guess I need to stop caring about fitting in with all these strange human beings and just accept my alien nature. I’m not going back to the mothership any time soon.
My faith saved me. May God’s peace reside in all of our hearts.
