my land of Dragons
I have come to realize that I have a difficult time acting my age. As a result, I am not a very social person because the large majority of people here at college are not only around my age, but they enjoy acting my age. As a result of this...I feel lonely and question the justice of being raised to be a mature individual who can think for herself and does not feel like acting below herself merely to enjoy the company of others.
Back in October when my charming roommate decided to get drunk and pass out and I had to deal with people in various stages of drunkenness bumbling about the room and being worried about my earthly possessions (such as the beautiful quilt my mother gave me that was being sat on by drunk people who were drinking), my mother was up in Portland for the weekend. Of course, I talked to her about it the next day when we went to OMSI (oregon museum of science and industry)(of course, my telling my mother that I was uncomfortable lead to said charming roommate telling me that I shouldn't have done so because her privacy was violated or something along those lines...despite the fact that my mother neither did nor said anything to her about it...). My mother told me that she wonders sometimes if it was a good thing to raise me the way she and my father did, because it means that I am uncomfortable in my own peer group and will never get smashed in college like most of the rest. I thought this an odd comment at the time (why the heck would I feel let down for not being in a mind state that would allow me to get piss drunk in a group of people I barely know?).
On reflection over dinner tonight, I think I understand what she means. It's not that she's worried I've lost out being able to get drunk in college, but she's worried it's her fault I don't enjoy the company of people here. And you know what? Maybe she's right. Maybe I would be enjoying life more if I weren't constantly thinking of myself as above my peers. Maybe I'd be happier if I felt I could let my guard down and just enjoy the inane chatter at dinner about the Oscars and what we plan for the weekends. Maybe I'd be happier if I wasn't so goddamned serious.
But I don't think it's anything I can change, really, without succumbing to the same sort of false enjoyment I spent the last year and a half of high school in. When I could pretend to laugh and be part of the group, when I got so good at that facade that I nearly fooled myself...I was happy until I realized I wasn't.
And I find myself in that same place again...wondering if it's worth it to sacrifice a very real part of me in order to not be so lonely anymore. But I think I know that this time it would be a very conscious transition, and if I knew about it, I wouldn't be happy, ergo it makes little sense to be unhappy in an effort to be happy.
Back in October when my charming roommate decided to get drunk and pass out and I had to deal with people in various stages of drunkenness bumbling about the room and being worried about my earthly possessions (such as the beautiful quilt my mother gave me that was being sat on by drunk people who were drinking), my mother was up in Portland for the weekend. Of course, I talked to her about it the next day when we went to OMSI (oregon museum of science and industry)(of course, my telling my mother that I was uncomfortable lead to said charming roommate telling me that I shouldn't have done so because her privacy was violated or something along those lines...despite the fact that my mother neither did nor said anything to her about it...). My mother told me that she wonders sometimes if it was a good thing to raise me the way she and my father did, because it means that I am uncomfortable in my own peer group and will never get smashed in college like most of the rest. I thought this an odd comment at the time (why the heck would I feel let down for not being in a mind state that would allow me to get piss drunk in a group of people I barely know?).
On reflection over dinner tonight, I think I understand what she means. It's not that she's worried I've lost out being able to get drunk in college, but she's worried it's her fault I don't enjoy the company of people here. And you know what? Maybe she's right. Maybe I would be enjoying life more if I weren't constantly thinking of myself as above my peers. Maybe I'd be happier if I felt I could let my guard down and just enjoy the inane chatter at dinner about the Oscars and what we plan for the weekends. Maybe I'd be happier if I wasn't so goddamned serious.
But I don't think it's anything I can change, really, without succumbing to the same sort of false enjoyment I spent the last year and a half of high school in. When I could pretend to laugh and be part of the group, when I got so good at that facade that I nearly fooled myself...I was happy until I realized I wasn't.
And I find myself in that same place again...wondering if it's worth it to sacrifice a very real part of me in order to not be so lonely anymore. But I think I know that this time it would be a very conscious transition, and if I knew about it, I wouldn't be happy, ergo it makes little sense to be unhappy in an effort to be happy.