New People Anxiety

I knew that at some point, after all the big chopping, allergy testing and cutting toxic people out of my life was done I would eventually make new contacts - whether I was ready for it or not.

I wasn't sure when it would happen or if it would happen.  I think part of me imagined myself living out my days in Los Angeles without ever interacting with anyone again.  At least I'd avoid getting hurt.

But that's no way to live.

Now I'm suddenly in London and I don't feel the need to stay indoors all the time.  In fact, part of me feels excited about the prospect of meeting new people.  The other part of me is scared to death.

Maybe it's strange to some that I have anxiety about meeting new people.  I find it strange myself, especially since I used to think of myself as a gregarious person.  Deep down, underneath all this fear and anger I believe there is still that happy, outgoing, fearless girl running around with her heart on her sleeve.  I want to be her again.  I feel like I could be her again - only wiser and more careful.

I just need to get past this part right here.

I'm doing my mental checklist and reviewing my Former Sidekick Girl Code of Conduct.  As I meet new people in this new environment, I'm carefully monitoring my own behavior and watching out for any red flags.  So far no red flags but one thing I learned the hard way is that people don't always reveal their true selves right away so I'm being cautious and vigilant.  I'm still approachable and friendly but I know my boundaries and I'm taking care not to misrepresent myself as a doormat.  Or a sidekick.

The good thing about going into a new friendship cautiously is that you can observe the new people coming into your life at a safe distance.  I like to pay close attention to a person's actions.  Do they like to gossip about mutual friends?  Do they throw shade and try to play it off as a joke?  Are they the type to leave you hanging or drop you for a better offer?  These are small infractions.  They don't necessarily means someone is a bad person but if that's not the type of behavior you want to deal with at this stage of your life then I recommend reconsidering how much time you want to spend with those type of people.

Personally, I've had my fill of the catty, the backstabbers, the drainers, the users and the unreliable friends.  I don't want to develop a friendship with someone who clearly looks down on me and only wants to hang out when it's convenient for them.  I don't want to be in a friendship where I feel the need to match the energy level of someone else who's clearly performing.

I did all that.

Now I'm ready for real friendships.  People who will go out of their way for you.  People who invite you out not out of obligation but because they genuinely want you to show up.  People who make you laugh not because they're cracking jokes about another person but because they actually know how to hold an interesting conversation.

I used to be a friendship chameleon and a doormat and even a mean girl.  I was probably at my worst in musical theatre school because I wanted so badly to fit in and be liked.

I lost myself and it took a long time to find my way back.

I won't make that same mistake this time around.  Not joining in with the rest of the herd might not make me popular but at least I'll find the real friendships I'm searching for.



Go Be Happy.  Now.

I can't afford valium but I can afford alcohol

I had a tough day last week.

I hope you didn't think this blog was only going to chronicle all the good parts of my post sidekick girl life.  If so, I'm sorry to say you'll be disappointed.  I have decided to pursue a life that makes me happy without all the friendship drama but that doesn't mean there aren't bad days.

And I do still have bad days.
My bad days generally involve a lot of crying and feeling overwhelmed and full of dread.
A panic attack basically.

As a child I got them pretty often.  But when you grow up in a Christian home they aren't called panic attacks.  You're either attention starved or possessed by the devil.  But I was hurting and I needed help.

As an adult I rarely get them.  The last one was well over a year ago.  So I count even this moment of complete overwhelming devastation a victory.  Because somehow - despite that overwhelming feeling of dread and temporary fear of going outside - I managed to leave my apartment and get to work- albeit an hour late.

In the past panic attacks kept me indoors for days.  I called off work.  Skipped class.  Shut myself off from the world because I couldn't deal.

But now I guess I can deal.

I am dealing.

I met a new girl who told me that she takes Valium for her panic attacks.  I've never taken Valium or any type of depression medication before.  I don't know much about it aside from what I've read in books or seen in movies starring spoiled rich white kids and women who start drinking wine at 10am.  All I know is that it's supposed to help ease the anxiety.  I'm not the type to put random pills into my body.  The closest I ever came to that was diet pills- which I don't do anymore. 

Plus I can't afford Valium.

I can, however, afford alcohol.  Don't judge me but a little bit of alcohol goes a long way.  A glass of red wine.  A shot of whiskey.  Or a bit of Khalua in my morning coffee usually does the trick.  *This is not me giving out advice.  Please don't follow my lead here.  I'm merely sharing apart of my life as I continue to work on myself.  I don't think alcohol solves any problems.  If you choose to see it as a cry for help then by all means feel free to pray for me.

This is just how I cope for now.

I haven't made it to the other side of perfect yet.  I only just started this journey and I have a long way to go.  So there are still hard days- really hard days.  Being on my own without the distraction of toxic, drama-filled friendships means I have more time to work on myself. 

And that's a good thing.
But sometimes it takes a little sip of something to get me through the dark days.

 

I can afford a sip here and there.