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Longing for Belonging... As Always

7 years ago1,541 words

I still don't know what I want to do with my future (if I even have one)...

I recently had to hand in drafts for sections of my dissertation. As I'm studying Psychology, the dissertation is essentially a lab report, where you write about an experiment that you've helped carry out. Introduction, Abstract, Methods, Results, Discussion, that kind of thing. My small group and I have had so many issues with the experiment along the way, because we didn't design it, and the way it was designed didn't make much sense as far as I could tell. Or rather, I would have done it differently if I'd designed it. So when I handed in drafts of my intro, methods, and results (which are the only bits we can receive feedback on, for whatever reason), I was concerned that the comments I'd get would essentially say that what I'd managed to cobble together was mediocre at best.

I got feedback the other day, though, and the supervisor - a published researcher who's renowned enough to often be away at international conferences - seemed impressed by it; she said that it's the best she's read in years, that it was a pleasure to read. She also said that she'd like to meet up for coffee with me in a few weeks to discuss my future.

I suppose it's nice to hear something like that about my work. It's ego-stroking for sure, and allows me to panic less about making it absolutely perfect (though I can only wonder about the quality of other drafts she's seen, since I definitely don't think it was my best work). And I'm aware that being asked to meet up like that is how professional contacts are formed. I should be glad that I'm apparently impressive enough to deserve such attention.

But mostly I just feel anxious about it... largely due to social anxiety. I'm acutely aware of my social deficits; I know I don't follow established social scripts. My ex-friend B's reactions to my social ineptitude has been burned forever into my mind; every day I picture her disgusted or embarrassed face in reaction to my various bumblings, and want to just disappear to spare anyone else the discomfort of my company.

The issue is one of inexperience. You could read a hundred books about, say, karate, could understand exactly how it all works and the best techniques to use and so on, but suddenly finding yourself in a sparring match with no embodied experience would make it obvious to you that you're no master.

Skill developed through practice is handled differently by the brain than abstract knowledge. From what I understand (though I'm not certain about this), when you're first learning a skill, during that phase where you have to consciously think about every detail of your actions, you're using mostly higher-level cortical structures. But as you repeat the skill again and again, it's 'baked' into the cerebellum (sort of), freeing up cortical resources to be used for other things. It's how you can execute familiar skills as if on auto pilot without being consciously aware that you're doing them. Like driving (I imagine; I can't drive), or typing.

Social skills are things that require practice like anything else, and since I've spent so much of my life so isolated from others, what I consciously 'know' about how to behave and how I actually behave when I rarely have to be around people are often very much out of sync. Then - since I do have social anxiety - I just go home and cringe about my mistakes (because my knowledge and hypersensitivity to disapproving nonverbal cues make me very aware that they are mistakes) to the point of essentially curling into a ball and/or muttering hatefully to myself, all the while sharply aware of how mentally ill I clearly am. Social anxiety is primarily a fear of consequences... and I'm afraid of my social missteps making others uncomfortable, and of having memories of that inflicted discomfort breach like thrashing sharks again and again in my mind as I hide away to avoid suffering more mental scars. Or something.

So I'm worried that if I meet this lecturer person informally, I'll come across as uncomfortably incompetent, and the whole meeting would be awkward and it'll just make me want to go and hide forever. But more than that, I'm just really not sure what I'd say, because I'm so unsure about what to do with my future.

I've been thinking a lot about it these past few days - essentially mentally rehearsing what I might say to her, as if that'll help - and I suppose the issue is, as always, one of longing for a place to fit in, but feeling like I'll never find it.

I originally started making games as a teenager... but was put off doing that as a career because of the toxic masculinity of 'gamer' culture. It isn't that I think absolutely everyone who makes games is 'toxic'... but it's definitely a very male-dominated world, and the prevailing mentality would likely be of aggressive, technical toughness rather than soft sensitivity. I feel like I'm more arty than most people who get into games development would be... but also that I'm more cerebral than most people who'd specialise in art. People who tend to make art professionally (I'm thinking of art in the sense of digital graphics and concept art rather than, say, urinals wearing wigs or whatever) draw for fun, for expression; they live and breathe that kind of direct creativity, communicate via sketches. I've known people like that before - my ex was one - and I really envy them for being that way! I wish I could draw just to draw like that, instead of seeing drawing - or making 3D models or whatever else - as some chore I have to do from time to time or to achieve some goal. There's music, which I occasionally compose and find really satisfying when I do, but most people who focus on that have wide musical interests, have played in bands (either 'band practice' classical-style or 'garage band'-style with similarly-inclined friends) during their earlier years, are competent at at least one musical instrument, are fluent in music theory... I can barely play the piano, and my understanding and experience with the world and culture of music is lacking, amateur. And then there's science, psychology... but even though I'm apparently good at that, the idea of doing academic psychology for the rest of my life seems soul-crushing because it seems to forbid the kinds of creativity I find most satisfying to explore. I also feel like spending forever writing some dull, dry report about an experiment I feel is trivial, only for nobody to ever read it anyway, would be incredibly unfulfilling after my experiences having my creative work appreciated by people from all over the world.

I know I could do psychology as a job and art as a hobby... but my main concern with all of these things is just fitting in with the other people, with my colleagues and peers. And I don't know if I would in psychology. Or art. Or games development. Or music. Or anything else. It's why I feel like becoming a complete hermit is the only fate that actually suits me... That or death. I'd like to explore death, directly. I've entertained ideas about researching consciousness and 'supernatural' phenomena scientifically, but that'd make me an immediate pariah as far as established science is concerned because anything that deviates from the consensus is pseudoscience worthy of ridicule (so much for open-minded inquiry).

I know I shouldn't, but I've been delaying replying to this lecturer's email or offer to meet up because I suppose a part of my mind hopes that by just avoiding things, they'll disappear eventually and I won't have to worry about them anymore. I know that's not how it works. I'm hoping that writing this out here will help... Just getting things out allows them to be verbally processed, while sitting around with swirling internal thoughts is like being trapped in some cyclone, going round and round and getting nowhere.

I think any progress on Embracing Eternity is likely to be slow (if I make any at all) over the coming days because I've got two exams to revise for and this dissertation to finish, but then after that, this university thing is all over. It's been miserable though, mostly... and I dread going on to do a Master's and a PhD just because I'm afraid of more of the same. Having to endure gruelling academic work that I'm good at but don't enjoy, while growing gradually more mad from social isolation.

I really am tempted to just jump into the abyss since it feels like there's nothing for me here except agony and isolation... but I'm trying to hold on because... well, I suppose it's mostly cowardice. Anyway, I always go on about that.

I suppose the key isn't to hope I find happiness one day, though. I doubt very much that I will. Rather, it's to find some value in suffering. Maybe that's why I'm here, after all.