In Hiding

I keep people at arm's length. It's one of my many faults, and it has taken me a long time to figure it out because I can tend to be all here's my life story and everything about me sometimes. The arm's length part comes after, when I'm feeling naked about having spewed my life story. It's a balancing act, sharing too little, sharing too much, trusting too little, trusting too much.

Tonight I told a friend why I haven't been calling. I haven't been calling because I'm a bit stressed out and, frankly, a little depressed. And, honestly -- okay, I didn't tell her this part -- feeling as if I've told her too much and she'll figure out I'm not fun to be around. Winter does this to me. I'm not the kind of depressed that warrants any intervention, just the kind of depressed that makes me leave my kitchen in a hellish, crusty mess for days at a time and makes me tell myself I have been too busy to return phone calls. I'm not busy. I'm hiding, covering my nakedness. And I told her today -- mostly because she hasn't known me long enough to know not to take my sudden and unexplained distancing personally.

It's not only friends, and it's not only in the winter, and it's not only when I'm feeling down. Generally speaking, I'm afraid of being judged. I haven't spoken to my "best friend" in over six months -- not an email, nothing. Yeah, she lives very far away, but still, six months is a long time. It's not that I don't love her to pieces. I just feel inferior. She is (recently) thin, has a great job, parents with tremendous patience, and is practical and unemotional. I'm the opposite of all of that. But the truth is it wouldn't matter if I were thin or had a great job or any of those other things. I would still find reason to feel inferior and judged.

I have been avoiding my grandmother. Not even consciously, but I've been doing it nonetheless. I should have visited her last week, but the kids had colds. I didn't call her, though. I just let her figure out we weren't coming. I know I have let her down -- and not just about my failure to call or visit. I've let her down with my failure to be a good Christian granddaughter, my failure to raise Christian grandchildren. And so, when I'm near her, I can think only of what a disappointment I am to her.

Last week I went to a moms' night out with some other women in the area. One of the women there was a friend, and the others are just acquaintances. But during dinner I realized that the other women were making connections amongst themselves. Their kids were playing together, they were talking on the phone, etc. Hey, what about me? Oh, yeah, I haven't extended my hand in friendship to any of them. Mostly, with that group, I feel inferior because of my stuttering. When we are all together, my speech is atrocious. So I say to myself, "Eh, why bother?" But, as I said before, if it weren't my speech, it would be something else. Like the fact that I'm the only fat one in the group. Or that they seem so much more together. Or something. There's always something.

And so there you have it. I'm a weirdo. I can't stand that I'm like this with people. Tomorrow I'm calling my grandmother. And I might even email my best friend. But I doubt I'll be able to do it without wishing I could hide instead.