The confidence learning curve

Suddenly Malia has a new phone. And my self-esteem has been dragged down along with the flip of the clamshell.

It really hasn't got anything to do with it. Or maybe I got hopelessly nostalgic remembering my old mobile, when everybody was jealous and wanted it for themselves. Now, although it isn't really the case, Malia's got a similarly-featured phone. Like it matters, really, but that's where I'm going to start.

For four months, quite honestly, I got attached with my phone. It's not because it's sleek, but because it's what practically kept me through - uselessly random photos, damn useful phone calls, you get it. For quite a while I was actually basking on the very thing I was complaining of previously: being just the errand boy. At least, I thought, I was getting the affirmation I sorely needed. So, the moment it got stolen, it was some reality check: people won't exactly hate me, I figured, but I realized that I was so attached to it - quite literally with the headphones, though.

But no, I'm not going to blame desperate robbers with a distorted morality for my self-esteem crisis. I've practically survived through it, except probably for those people who were at a disbelief that I lost that sleek gadget of mine to the point of blaming me for a twist of fate. My confidence has been that low for quite a while, which is probably why I've been too happy to snap up anything that actually reeks of positivity about me. And they don't seem true all the time, but nevertheless I am still "happy" about it. Doesn't go to say, though, that I blindly snap them all up - probably, though, I'm still in touch with reality to be able to filter them out, and keep practically nothing to myself.

It's weird that the stereotype that (harshly) goes something like you're-a-complete-loser-because-you-haven't-got-friends applies to me, or at least is forced down my throat. And I still end up thinking whether I really have friends, or just classmates that happen to be "close" to me. Yeah, same complaints, I know. But maybe those times when I haven't related entirely to a conversation has finally gotten into my nerves. Maybe the only thing missing is that I be asked to leave the premises because someone has drawn that damned exclusivity circle again. Maybe it was my mistake that I haven't started off well, or maybe because nobody gets the fact that not everybody is born with efficiently practiced social skills precisely because they shunted our development. And now they're laughing at us?

I can't basically exist alone, but here's another one of those phases when my very confidence in what I think I'm good at is close to eroding. And precisely because you wanted it that way: not that you intend to do so, but as always, you're shutting out people. I just hate the be the victim, even if there'll always be one victim. And whenever I reach out, you spank my hand and spill the mashed carrots I'm offering. (As if I had the choice. What worse a metaphor can I use but baby food?) Or, maybe, you'll accept it and wonder why you got mashed carrots.

I think there was a time in my college years when I had hell too much confidence to pass as someone utterly irritating. And maybe that wasn't exactly my best moments, but nevertheless I had this floating sense of oh-golly-I'm-communicating. But now, I'm basically seated there and you aren't including me in your conversations. And consequently, I end up sucking a thumb and, despite the twelve-inch separation, I won't be telling you anything. We've got so much to catch up on, but eventually I'll think I haven't got a chance at all.

So, eventually, I'll be ready to blame someone and save myself. Heck, I also have an ego after all, maybe bigger than everybody else's, to the point that I'm shoving it down your throat telling you all these things about you not caring simply because you don't. And eventually I'll beg you to do what I want you to do. (Sounds familiar, right?) But I'll save myself and say something like "this is all just a phase, because I'm particularly attached to something and I got hurt in the process", but that's a load of toilet material. Just notice me and do more, please? Thank you.

Psychology majors? I'm offering myself as a desperate case study.

And your responses...

Maybe I can use your case for thesis. HAHA.

Aw, hug, henrikuh.

Blogger Monica2/05/2007     

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