Fear of People

You can read elsewhere on this blog my experience of people in the particular area of Texas in which I live, and how as a result I don't really have any friends down here.  It's basically a combination of opportunity, no work, children, or church, and the dominant culture down here which finds my opinion not only false, but actively offensive.

Over the last eighteen months my bipolar disorder has become fully controlled, and so I am consistently able to take care of myself and my situation.  My well-being now fluctuates based solely on my circumstances and no longer as a result of random chemical changes.  This is a good thing.  However, it does make everything very much the same for me day after day.

As a result of this sameness I want to do some different things, get out of the house, meet people.  This is a difficult process.  Actively trying to find and make friends is a terrible way to find and make friends.  If you think about the people with whom you are friends, most of them you met through other people in a sort of chain effect.  Showing up somewhere without knowing anybody is an uncomfortable experience for most people.

Still, I am generally an outgoing person who has gotten along with people from different states, countries, backgrounds, etc..  This shouldn't be the hardest thing in the world.  But I am afraid. 

The combination of my somewhat isolated existence and the very poor experiences I have had with people here has put me in the situation where I know intellectually that I should put myself out there socially in some manner, but I get a tightness in my chest at the idea, and don't ever do it.  There is no risk staying at home, watching tv, talking to my wife, and generally I like my time here at home.  Going out feels like I will face rejection, disgust, and anger, it has happened before.

When you go times without making friends there comes a point where you start thinking that it must be you.  I have certainly felt like that here, and yet when I return to Portland I have to go through an intense schedule just to fit in all the people who want to see me.  I am good enough, and people really do like me.  Still, I have become cautious about what I say, and when I say things I worry that I have offended someone, possibly with permanent effects.

Two posts ago I wrote on this blog a counterpoint to the post of someone I consider a good friend, someone I have known for more than a decade.  We have gone through all sorts of things together, been furious at each other, disagreed, debated, and so on.  I wrote the post not only because I thought the subject interesting but because Dade and I have had many conversations on his porch about all sorts of subjects.  As soon as I wrote it I started worrying about whether I had been offensive.  I heard that Dade had commented on the post but found myself unable to look at the comment out of worry.  I have since read it and had no need to worry.

I talked to my darling wife about this very situation yesterday and she felt exactly the same.  She has been in an absolutely horrific work environment.  When we tell people about it they simply don't believe it.  The environment has been full of lies, scheming, attempts to destroy people, just stuff you only see in films.  Other than that situation she has been pretty much at home with me.  She has been traumatized by that situation that her default position is worry about upsetting people and fear of them trying to "get her."  She has been working at a new place, and as a result she is beginning to relearn that most people are simply decent.

Still, we are afraid of people.  Afraid of what they might do, how they might react.  We now think in terms of risk when thinking of social situations.  Perhaps our pleasure in each others company accentuates this feeling of risk, for we get along remarkably well.  There is a perfectly nice person who I should call up and do something with, and should have called five weeks ago.  I still haven't.