I think only one man I've met that I got close to described me as
being complicated. He told me often that I made no sense to him, and this frustrated me.
I know I am hard to deal with, I'd think,
but nothing I do or say makes sense to him? That can't be good. Here I am,
an English major who prides herself on her ability to attempt communication, and I couldn't seem to convey myself clearly to a single person. Not even most of my friends. It made me feel
autistic except that I could not be aloof about my
idiosyncracies. It made me paranoid.
My reaction to this statement was "I'm a mess. I warned you." But when I used this on another man I got close to, he didn't buy it. I wonder if he would also say I am complicated and not just confused. I know that in the effort to become less confusing, I need to swallow my pride and admit that I don't often make sense, to others or even myself (which is often true). But I can't help but wonder how did I get this far being so confusing, making so little sense.
Like today, for example. One the drive home from work I wondered why I only had one friend I did things with socially, why it is always so hard to find someone to do things with. I'm not incapable of making friends. But then I realize that my comfort with solitude is self-taught, a defense mechanism brought on by years of social confusion that sprang from several paternal factors.
I also realized that perhaps the reason I have gotten as far as I have while still making so little sense is that I had limited my interaction to inanimate objects, ideas and situations where I was the only active participant. My world was school, work, bills, keeping house, having sex, diluting my mind with drugs and vacant friendships that had little longstanding value. Even now, my world has kept the human element at bay, more out of habit than desire, than what I would prefer.
Having admitted that, the idea of becoming less confusing,
or less complicated seems insurmountable. How could anyone work with me on this concept of clear and open communication with the hope that what is going on in my head matches what is coming out of my mouth?
I have a long way to go, indeed. I only hope it's not too late.