Erin’s life as a Drama Queen.

Making new friends is hard. And I think I knew all this time that it was going to be hard. There’s difficulty in adjusting from being in a place where you have an identity to a place where you’re not at all established. It’s like taking your high school image and deciding what parts you’d like to keep and what areas of yourself you’d like to modify, and it’s this process of deciding WHO you want to be, which in and of itself is an ordeal, and after this you must find a way to become your new self, but all of the sudden the summer’s over and you’re here and there are all these people that perhaps could be your friends, but how do you possibly know because there are so many and you hate initiating conversations because then how do you know if they actually want to talk to you or if they’re just being polite, so you wait around for someone to approach you, but how can you expect everyone to be braver than you, that seems rude, and who are you again?

And I just feel overwhelmed, because I see all of you already in friend groups. Not that I couldn’t probably join you, but I’m I afraid I’ll stick myself with people who don’t understand me or think I’m funny or something. And I know classes haven’t even started yet, but isn’t it pathetic that I’ve only been here for a few days and I already feel left out?

I’m certainly not making the most valiant effort to go out of my comfort zone, though, so if you were thinking of perhaps feeling sympathetic towards me you may want to reconsider.

I suppose we all know I turn into a basket case in large social groups, but it’s not just that. It’s this pit in the bottom of my stomach reminding me of how I left home. It’s as if I awkwardly and abruptly pulled away from my ties there, instead of neatly un-knotting them. There was zero closure, not that many of my relationships called for it, but there were definitely some. One in particular was an odd ending for a friendship. Although I don’t know, I suppose we might still be friends. However, I’m under the impression that if I have to ask if I’m still friends with you, the answer is probably a no. It’s like I thought I have would have all this time to say farewell to everyone, and then all of the sudden it was Sunday morning in the car trying not to cry because I didn’t even say goodbye to my siblings the night before. But anyway, I’m homesick, but not really homesick for the Home I left behind several days ago; I’m homesick for the Home I had last spring, when I knew who I had as friends, and I was popular and likable, and I was at least somewhat content.

I should probably stop blogging, I’m only making it worse.