California knows how to party
I just hope my trauma will allow me to relax, and to enjoy my time there.
This week, I’m going to Long Beach, California, to hang out with a friend.
We’re planning a low-key holiday: we’re gonna go to the beach, find a diner where we can order cheeseburgers and chocolate shakes (well, I want chocolate; I’m not sure what flavor she’ll order), and probably hang out in the hotel and watch some old movies.
It’ll be the first time we meet in person… but we’ve been friends for almost three years… and between texting, phone calls, and video chatting, I dare say we’ve easily achieved best friend status.
(She may even be my BFF at this point, or one of them, anyway. Can you have more than one BFF? I think you can.)
I should be excited — and, I am… but underneath the excitement, I think this is the scariest thing I’ve done in years… even scarier than when I left the safety and security of Mom and Dad’s house, and moved to Lubbock…
I haven’t had friends in a long time… like years… and the last time I did have a BFF, they really hurt me. And while I know that this situation is different, and that the friends I’m making today aren’t out to hurt me…
The thought that somebody wants to be my friend straight up terrifies me.
Like, I’m trembling a bit just as I write this.
I spent so many years alone, isolated, withdrawn, trying to keep everyone away — it’s painful, now, to start letting people in. And so I’m scared to death to go meet this friend.
Not because I think they’re gonna hurt me. Not because I think things’ll go wrong. Not because I think I’m not ready.
But because I think if I let one person in… I’m gonna love it so much I’ll want to start letting others in… and maybe I’ll make a lot of friends… and maybe I’ll start living life on a higher level…
And my trauma keeps telling me that’s not allowed, and it’s never gonna happen, and I’m selling myself a fantasy.
My trauma still tells me that I don’t deserve to have friends.
That I deserve to suffer.
That I’m only safe when I’m avoiding contact with other people.
And that’s really hard for me to face.
I really want to see my friend, and to have it be a fun and positive experience!
And I’m terrified that I won’t be able to get close… that I’ll be so nervous I’ll keep my guard up the whole time… that I’ll be so concerned with trying to control the outcome, I won’t let myself have fun.
I’m scared that this is too big of a step for me to take… that it’s too soon in our friendship… that I’m not ready for how our friendship might change, as a result of hanging out in person…
Which is ridiculous, because we’ve already been friends for almost three years! And I should be excited, and anxious, and hopeful — but my trauma tells me I need to be afraid, and on guard, and vigilant… and that somehow, meeting in person is going to ruin everything and make my friend decide she doesn’t like me after all, and I’m not the person who she thought I was, and she’s better off without someone like me in her life.
I don’t think I really believe that, but, it feels so real right now, I don’t honestly know.
I hate that this is what my trauma does to me. I’m certain that this trip is too much, that it’s more than I can possibly handle, and that everything is going to come undone and I’m going to regret thinking I was ready to take such a huge step in my healing journey…
But underneath all that, part of me is also like, “But what if things go well? What if it all works out, and you do have a good time? What if you come home and you’re glad you went to meet her?”
What if I am ready for my life to start getting better, and I just can’t see it because my brain is so used to always expecting bad things to happen?
I trust my friend. And I trust our relationship, and our ability to keep our friendship strong and healthy.
I guess what has me so worked up is I still don’t know if I can trust myself. I’m so scared, and my trauma is trying to keep me that way, to protect me from imagined danger, to prevent me from stepping too far outside my comfort zone, to preserve my own sense of security.
I feel like, I know I’m going to be safe… and at the same time, I know everything is going to come undone… and not only am I going to lose my friend, but I’m going to lose all the progress I’ve made since I moved out on my own, a year and a half ago.
I don’t know what will ever happen on this trip, that will be so disastrous it will end a friendship and ruin all of my forward progress… but my trauma knows that’s what will happen.
I hate having to fight all these fears every time I try to do even the simplest things.
I know that just feeling this way doesn’t mean it’s ever going to happen. And I know that, because of my trauma, it’s not within my control whether or not I even have these feelings. And I know that once I get to California, and see my friend, so happy to finally meet up, and eager to show me around and to enjoy our time together, I’m gonna be fine. (I might even enjoy it…)
I just wish I could be a tad more “normal” when it comes to things like this. I wish I could have the excitement, and the anticipation, and not have to have the fear, and the anxiety.
I wish I knew how to make the trauma take a back seat for once, and not try to ruin what might just be the most fun I’ve had with a friend in over twenty years.
I wish I didn’t always have to feel so afraid.