Going Out
Yesterday was a hard day for me on many levels, to the point even after a night's sleep I'm still rocking a low-grade headache from it. But I went to see where my old choir was staying and it was after 7. Now, normally, I would've talked myself out of going and just stayed home because of the amount of effort it would take me to be social, but I went anyway.
I notice I engage people I don't know like I'm an interrogator. I also fell back on my jokes--although I didn't go into self-deprecation mode, so I'm going to pat myself on the back for that. What I did do, though, was admit to the director there were many personalities that will test me when the 40th reunion of the choir rolls around in April. But not only did I admit that, I'm determined to introduce them to a different Savannah than the one they last saw. Never mind I'm at least 20 pounds lighter (and hope to make it even more by this time next month) but even if I were 50lbs heavier, I'm not going to let them treat me any old way just so we could be "friendly". Loss happens, and sometimes it happens painfully. Sometimes I take that sentiment to the extreme sometimes and get cold, but I'm so damn tender in reality that it gets taxing to keep up that front. That's why I hide out in my apartment, why I want to live alone, why I before I really couldn't fathom myself in a long-term relationship because all I thought of was keeping up that facade for almost 24 hours a day.
In college I didn't trust my awesome; I didn't truly own my dorkiness, I was uncomfortable with my version of brilliance. I won't be 100% in a month, but I'm damn sure going to be better than I was five years ago.
Next week I'm also going out to a restaurant with a group of acquaintances. That should be good practice for me because all the other times I'd gone out with this group, I sat back and watched instead of participated. It'll be rough, I know this going in, but I can't let that stop me.
I notice I engage people I don't know like I'm an interrogator. I also fell back on my jokes--although I didn't go into self-deprecation mode, so I'm going to pat myself on the back for that. What I did do, though, was admit to the director there were many personalities that will test me when the 40th reunion of the choir rolls around in April. But not only did I admit that, I'm determined to introduce them to a different Savannah than the one they last saw. Never mind I'm at least 20 pounds lighter (and hope to make it even more by this time next month) but even if I were 50lbs heavier, I'm not going to let them treat me any old way just so we could be "friendly". Loss happens, and sometimes it happens painfully. Sometimes I take that sentiment to the extreme sometimes and get cold, but I'm so damn tender in reality that it gets taxing to keep up that front. That's why I hide out in my apartment, why I want to live alone, why I before I really couldn't fathom myself in a long-term relationship because all I thought of was keeping up that facade for almost 24 hours a day.
In college I didn't trust my awesome; I didn't truly own my dorkiness, I was uncomfortable with my version of brilliance. I won't be 100% in a month, but I'm damn sure going to be better than I was five years ago.
Next week I'm also going out to a restaurant with a group of acquaintances. That should be good practice for me because all the other times I'd gone out with this group, I sat back and watched instead of participated. It'll be rough, I know this going in, but I can't let that stop me.