Social Paralysis

So outwardly, I'm a very outgoing, energetic, confident person.  And most of the time I'm that way on the inside, too.  But every once in a while, insecurity takes up residence in my mind.  I don't usually show it outwardly, but when it's there, to me it's quite palpable.

I'm not insecure about many things, and I've worked really hard on overcoming the insecurities I do have.  But recently a new insecurity has wriggled its way into my life.  Or maybe it's not as much a new insecurity as it is an old one with a makeover.

I'm sure most of us, if not all, were insecure about meeting new people at some point.  Some of you may still be insecure about it now, and that's okay.  But this insecurity has morphed itself into something entirely new to me.  I'm usually pretty good at making friends.  I'm friendly and outgoing, and like my dad, I can strike up a conversation with just about anyone.  So chances are in a new group of people, SOMEONE will want to be my friend.  But when we lost our jobs in December, things changed a bit.  I'm still friendly and outgoing, but I lack the inner confidence I once had, I think.  Because when we lost our jobs, we also lost a lot of friends.  They'll protest and say that's not true, that they are still our friends...but when people make no effort to talk to or see us in eight months, I'm going to listen more to their actions and not their words.  And honestly, there's no bitterness in that statement - I'm just being 100% completely honest.

Making new friends has been incredibly more difficult than Matt and I imagined.  We met some people in April and it was the most promising hint at a friendship yet.  When we found out they attend the same church as we do, we got even more excited.  "Oh boy!  Finally, some friends!  We need friends!"  A couple months went by, and then one day we saw them in the church parking lot.  Seizing the opportunity, we walked up behind them, got their attention, and started up a conversation.  And it was probably the.most.awkward social encounter I've ever had.  And really discouraging.

On our drive home, I was lost in thought, wondering why people just didn't seem to want to be our friends.  I mean, we're likable people.  At least, I think we are.  So why the no friends?  Then I also realized that we also just haven't met very many people our age, and even less people our age that are married.  So it's not like there are multitudes of people who have decided we are not friend-worthy, we just haven't had much luck with the people we've met.

But the problem doesn't just stop there.  Despite the overwhelming majority of people that no longer keep in contact with us, we do have some very wonderful friends that we keep up with.  But even with them, I've begun to second-guess myself.  Are they just hanging out with us because they feel bad for us?  Out of guilt or obligation or pity?  In fact, just the other week I had Matt ask some friends of ours if they would want to hang out because I was too scared to do it myself.  I felt so stupid.  I mean, these people had been some of our best friends.  They're still good friends, but...?

As you can see, the repercussions of losing our jobs in December didn't just stop with finances and our living situation; they trickled all the way down to our social lives and relationships.  Trust was broken and has yet to be fully restored, whether by the ones who broke it or by new people coming in and healing old wounds.

I am hopeful that the Lord will use our few remaining friendships to teach us and refine us.  And maybe we aren't ready for super new friendships yet, because we still need to heal from old ones.  I don't know. But it's interesting, isn't it?

Some days it's worse than others, and some days I don't notice it at all.  It's not an all-encompassing, can't get out of bed or can't-move-because-the-Bogeyman-will-get-me feeling - not at all!  But I'm a social person and sometimes I just...am more affected.  And today seemed to be a good day to write about it.