Tag: Loneliness

The Story of How I Became Shy

The Story of How I Became Shy

In primary school, I had this friend. I’ll call her Heather.

I never had any doubt that Heather and I were best friends. We met in pre-school, and became friends quickly and stayed that way throughout primary school; I don’t even remember not being best friends. As far as I can remember, she was just always there. It’s as if she always was.

I had other friends, of course, but there was never any challenge to her. We were so similar; weird in the same way, quiet in the same way, but also loud in the same way. I couldn’t imagine life without her. We were also close with another girl who we met later, Myrtle. She was my second best friend, if you like. Between them, I had all the friendship I needed. I didn’t really pay that much attention to other people because I didn’t need them. I had Heather and Myrtle.

When we moved up to secondary school, we stayed close, particularly Heather and I. It was the same as primary school; I made other friends, I talked to other people in class, but she was by far my closest friend, followed again by Myrtle. Almost 2,000 people in the school, but I needed no one else. We were best friends forever.

And then, suddenly, I didn’t have her.

I remember when I was told. It was April in Year 7, I was having a bath, my mum knocked on the bathroom door and came in. She told me that Heather’s family had managed to sell their house. I’d known that they were trying, but with the housing market as bad as it was I’d just never really believed that they would actually manage it.

And so… she moved away. 400 miles away, to Scotland.

It would have crushed me to lose her at school. But at least I had Myrtle, right? … until she also moved away, to Greece. A month after Heather left.

And then I was alone.

Thus, I started Year 8 with no real friends, no one I felt close to, or comfortable with. I’d given my heart entirely to my closest friends, because I had only needed them. And in their wake they left nothing.

Everyone else had spent Year 7 forming extensive, close and seemingly exclusive friendship groups, and after a year of barely talking to them I didn’t feel welcome. So, for the first year or so, I largely spent my break and lunch alone, trying to avoid older students who might try to make fun of me for being a loner. When I saw people I knew, I wanted so badly to join them, eat with them, laugh with them… but they all knew each other and I didn’t really know them. I didn’t know what they liked, or what made them laugh, or what to say at all… what could I offer them? I felt that if I joined them, I would be an outsider, a nuisance. They were happy without me, I thought, I didn’t have anything to offer them. They didn’t want me. I would just be annoying to them.

It took me a long time to become fully incorporated in a new group of friends. But even so, that feeling never went away. No matter who it was, I always felt that whenever I opened my mouth, they would think I was annoying, an irritation, someone they wished wasn’t there. It began to extend not just to friends, but to teachers, shop assistants, family members. Everyone.

And so I learned to not speak at all. Pretend like I didn’t exist, because I thought that that’s what other people wanted. Any personality I had had with Heather and Myrtle was buried deep beneath an exterior of shyness so that I would not be noticed. And so, I became shy.

After a few years, my shy exterior eventually began to crack. I became loud, argumentative (in a good way) in English classes. I debated with my new best friend in such a loud voice that it’s hard to believe that no one noticed. I had extensive conversations with my history teachers, giving them intellectual thought beyond school work that I knew they could appreciate.

Slowly, slowly, I came back out of my shell. But those insecurities still crippled me, forbade me from making many friends when I came to university. They kept me lonely, dependent on just a few people who I trusted. They kept me weak.

But no more.

Worthless

Worthless

In my lowest days, I feel so incredibly alone and unwanted. Something in me tells me that I mean nothing to the world, that I have no worth, that I might as well have never existed because I’m just not enough of anything to have any impact on anyone’s life.

I feel useless because I can’t make proper conversation because I get too nervous. But also because I have nothing to say that anyone would be interested to hear.

No wonder the only man who’s ever paid any attention to me, the only person I’ve ever cared about in that way, the only person who’s ever liked me enough to make me their girlfriend, dumped me after only a few months. I don’t blame him. I’m boring as fuck. What could I really give him other than my body? Nothing. I have nothing. I am nothing.

I have so few people who really care about me. I feel so alone. If I was falling, who would run across the country, across the town, even, to catch me? No one. I have no one. I’m so alone. No one loves me because I am nothing. You can’t love nothing.

I am so jealous of people who have a group of friends. True I have a few friends, scattered about, but for a long time I’ve wanted something more. I’ve wanted a group of people who hang out together all the time, who have a group chat, who message each other constantly, who all love each other.

But I’ll never have that. Never. Who would want me?

When he broke up with me, when he told me that he didn’t want me anymore, he said that we never talked about anything meaningful. That I couldn’t talk about the things he wanted to talk about.

I know that he wasn’t deliberately trying to hurt me, he was just being honest about how he felt. Like I am now. But even though I don’t want him anymore either, and I really shouldn’t care what he thinks of me, I just can’t shake what he said to me that night, because it’s true. I couldn’t talk to him about the things he wanted to talk about. I can’t talk to anyone about anything. Polite small talk is fine, but beyond that…? What do I have that I can say? I have barely any interests or hobbies to talk about. Nothing interests me anymore. I’m empty.

I don’t live; I exist. All I’m doing with my life is whiling away the hours until one day I’ll die, alone, having achieved nothing. My family will go to my funeral out of obligation, bound to me by blood that they couldn’t change if they tried. There’ll be few friends. Maybe there’ll be some tears. But what is there about me really to miss?

 

No Notifications

I was feeling lonely this morning,
With no one for company.
So I sent some texts out to my friends
To stop me feeling lonely.

My lips turn up in a hopeful smile
As I go to find my phone.
Surely they’ve replied by now!
But nope… I’m still alone.
No notifications.

It’s been an hour! All three are busy?
But I have love to give!
Why are they all busy now
When… Oh. They’ve all been active.

They must have seen my messages;
I’m just not worth a reply.
It takes five seconds to type out to me
Sorry, I’m busy, but hi!

Or maybe they’re not busy.
Maybe they just don’t like me.
I’m boring, a chore, a task they’ll put off.
But they don’t know what’s in my head
When I’m so lonely.

No notifications.
Might as well say no friends.
You’re not worthy of being happy.
Not good enough.
Not for those on whom you depend.
They don’t need you.

No notifications.
When I do it’s a rarity.
No one wants to talk to me
Like I have no personality.
Like if they just gave me a chance
I couldn’t make them happy.
I might make them laugh,
Or be there when they cry.
I would love them endlessly
If only they gave me the opportunity.
All it takes is a simple text,
And I’ll be there for you.
My heart is easily given.
All it takes is a simple text
And I’ll never neglect you.

Untitled Poem

I was nothing,
Unwanted,
Unneeded,
Unnecessary,
Unworthy.

Drowning in misery,
A pit of shame,
My river of sorrow.
Drowning on my own.
And I welcomed it.
Alone.

Soul crying, weeping,
Reaching out for you.
I needed you.
But you weren’t there.
I was empty,
Meaningless.
Where are you?

But I am not alone.
I am not yours to own.
I have hearts which will reach back to mine with open arms
When I want them most.
Waiting for me,
Caring for me.
The way you don’t.

And so now I know
That next time my heart is breaking itself
And I am drowning in my own tears,
That pit of shame,
That river of sorrow,
I won’t be crying out for
Someone who won’t
Be there to listen.