The most socially awkward person at the bar just told me how to make friends….

I mean i’m not complaining I could use the help and have every intention of doing so. But when I told him how desperate i am for friendship he just smiled like he understood. which I assume he did and that makes me feel like an asshole.

Then a guy just walked in the door and asked the young college girl sitting next to it, “I heard this is a happening spot. is that true?”

apparently it is.

I’m not hip enough to be here even though that one bartender seems to like me but the other thinks i’m really weird because I bussed a table for him without saying anything after the glasses had been sitting there for an hour…

sigh…

I’ve written down some ideas that could boost the business of this place but because I don’t actually know anyone because all I ever tell them is my order because i’m too nervous to actually speak to someone…sigh

I wrote a letter and offered to do the work to get the word out about my ideas but I have such a difficult time speaking to anyone about anything..

i’m terrified i’ll stutter,

i’m scared that i’ll come off as dumb,

no one says i have to socialize except my own brain.

it’s a weird need to feel approval and to feel as if i’m accepted as a person..

I can’t count how many times I’ve wanted to cut myself in the bathroom after a social interaction just because I read in their face that they think i’m an idiot..

I’m torn between never going out again but knowing full well that if I do that in fear of social rejection that I will take a power drill to my temple..

it’s a constant struggle.

So I go out…but I wait for people to speak to me. they never do. I mean I get it..they don’t know me. I sit here in my dark clothes with too heavy eye liner and inhale my second coffee while typing out whatever thought had invaded my mind…I legit cannot blame them for not approaching me.

Also I’m muscular af. it’s intimidating but I have to be physically strong to handle my normal job…which…

sigh…I”m not accepted there either…

I’m reading Mary Shelly’s frankenstein and I have never felt more kin than with the creature..

I almost cried earlier in public while reading…which has happened before while writing which is why I prefer a booth but a booth isn’t always an option. I don’t want to try to find another local business. sigh…

I flinched the other day when the bartender grabbed trash from my hand and I feel so bad about that because right after she…well she’s been asking questions from other patrons about me. If they know me and such…

but she’s also looked at me like she would attack me? Idk what I did to piss her off but then…idk i’m so confused and right now there isn’t much else for me to focus on.

I’m not sleeping at night..I’m barely eating..

between the book, which I’m at a very tense point on with no idea how to continue, and trying desperately for social acceptance my anxiety levels are high enough where just simple survival has become difficult…

it’s not a money issue…i know that…

it’s a desperation to be acknowledged as human.

and I hate that.

Author: PuppyPuppy

D.I.D. , writer, stagehand

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