I’ve been extremely lucky in a lot of ways, I’ve never had to deal with the kinds of problems that most people experience. I’ve never broken up with anyone, fallen out with friends, had to deal with ex’s. Never had to worry about anyone else apart from myself really (of course I do worry about my family). Of course all this came at the cost of always having been alone and deprived of human contact but I’ve rambled enough about that already.
As I sit here hungry again because I’m too scared to go into the kitchen and face making dinner with people around (this time I’m worried that they will ask what I’m having and think I’m weird because all I ever seem to eat is pasta, namely because it’s quick and easy to make.) I wonder what my life would be like if I wasn’t paralysed by fear of mundane and quite frankly, ludicrous things. I don’t think I could cope with being a real person. I don’t deserve to call myself a man, I’m just an overgrown child. If I ever managed to become normal, form relationships with people, have friends who want to spend time with me, go out, actually let someone know the real me (whoever the fuck that is, I don’t know any more) I don’t think I could cope with all the extra responsibilities and burdens. I just don’t think I’m cut out for life, not even this easy one I was lucky enough to be born into.
The Social Phobic 