I am unsettled. Or rather, I am even more unsettled than usual. I received an invitation to the wedding of one my cousins. I haven’t seen him, or any of them, in nearly 15 years. The last time I saw him, we were still both young men, with life ahead of us (in theory). I still had a full head of hair.
I have avoided seeing any of them for all that time, partly because I don’t want them to see what a loser I am. How little I’ve grown or developed as a person. I’m still just as awkward and standoffish as I was back then, probably more so. What is exasperating behaviour in a teenager is now simply pathetic in a man in his mid-30s. They’ve all built careers, found partners, and most of them have kids of their own. I have been in social stasis all that time, decaying.
I’ve never been to a wedding. I either ignored the invitations from my older cousins, or made excuses. Now it’s my younger cousin’s turn. If I went, I think I would be the only one there on my own, with nothing to show for my years on this earth, and nothing to say for myself.
The thought fills me with a deep sense of dread and shame. “So, what have you been up to all this time?” “Oh, you know, literally nothing.” Seeing those whose previous invitations I snubbed after all this time. Some of the older ones I never had a real conversation with even when we were young. Seeing them slowly recognise me and force themselves to hide their disdain.
I don’t want them to see what I’ve become. How much I’ve wasted my life, and whatever promise I once had. It’s hard enough dealing with the knowledge of that myself. To see it reflected in contrast to the lives of others I once cared about feels unbearable. I don’t want to be the spectre at their feast. I’m not in a place where I’m psychologically capable of sharing in the joy of their happy occasion. I can just about manage to be glad that they’re doing ok in an abstract kind of way, but I don’t want to have to be there to witness it. I know they only invited me out of a sense of politeness anyway.
If I go, I feel like it will be excruciating. If I make yet another excuse, then I’ll have made it even more awkward in future. And I’ll have to see them again eventually. Sooner or later, our parents will start dying, and we’ll have to see each other at funerals. Either choice seems unacceptable. My gut is twisting itself in knots just thinking about it.
And none of this should matter, because whatever happens, it will only be one day. However horribly awkward it is, however much despair and shame I feel, it will pass. But my bubble has been pierced. The protective shell that I maintain to avoid confronting the full awfulness of my life choices. And I don’t know how to live with that awareness.
Part of me is fantasizing about killing myself before then anyway. The wedding’s not ’til September, and a suicide in early summer appeals to me. But let’s be honest, I’m never going to go through with it. Which will leave me stuck, still having to suffer through the consequences of my many mistakes.
I wish I could go back to when we were kids, bloody-nosed from play fighting with each other. They were my tribe for a time. Now, I’m just alone.
8 comments
Go to that Wedding. You might end up enjoying it. Any Wedding I attended ended up being an enjoyable occasion. The ‘reception’ of a Wedding tends to start from 4/4.30 pm, there will be food/alcohol aplenty, the time flies in and generally a good time will be had by all.
The problem is the obligation to talk to people, and the awkwardness that this brings for me. I can’t stand it – it just feels wrong. And so I avoid it, and increase the awkwardness by being rude. If I can focus a conversation entirely on the other person/world events/random shit, then it’s sometimes fine. But the moment someone asks a question about my life, a deep sense of shame pervades. It might work out fine, with luck. But I suspect it will leave me feeling a strong desire to self-immolate.
Is there an option to go, but also have an escape route? That’s one of the things I do in stressful situations, find someplace quiet nearby in case things go horribly. It’s often unneeded, but it’s how I can function.
If that’s possible, it seems to me that trying to go would give a better impression than not going.
I don’t think so. The thing is, no matter how horribly things go, there won’t be a valid excuse for me withdrawing early. No one’s going to assault me or even shout at me. All that can happen is things will be socially awkward and I’ll feel terrible about myself. And once that happens, withdrawing doesn’t really change anything – I’m still stuck feeling the same way. It’s all in my head.
going by the tone of your post and the way it resonates with me, i’d say big no to going. yes theres the possibility that you might lose yourself in the moment and have a good time, but the points you brought up aren’t going away. if you feel your entire life is a disappointment, a couple glasses of wine and dancing aren’t going to change that. especially if this is a celebration of someone else’s happiness, it will wound you further from the sound of it.
the last social event i went to was a family reunion 2 years ago. same situation, i couldn’t keep making excuses so i just went. i survived and even got pleasantly tipsy that night, but i’m not exaggerating when i say the next day i almost killed myself. we have to be really careful to avoid triggers, and it sounds like this is a big one for you.
the good news is, i’m sure their celebration will outweigh any perceived insult if you politely decline. weddings are easy to skip. like you said funerals and sad occasions are where we are forced to make an appearance lest we look like ogres
Thank you for the thoughtful comment. For me I think it’s unlikely I’d actually kill myself if it went badly. Maybe it would have some impact, but I’m not really worried about that. I’m not impulsive in that way, so if I did decide to do it it would only be because the event helped to clarify the reality of my life.
I think what I’m really scared of is being confronted with others’ negative perceptions of my life. Because that’s somehow more real to me than my own negative perception of myself. I’m scared of feeling worse about myself and my life. More shame, more regret, more despair.
that makes so much sense it hurts. it’s as if we settle into our own comfortable state of misery in our head. but the minute someone else validates it (with a rude comment or even just a look) then its suddenly it’s real and unbearable.
well there’s always the option of faking a happy life. isn’t that the unspoken rule of high school reunions? not to mention instagram. maybe there’s some therapeutic value in putting on a show to fool others, even though we cant fool ourselves.
Yes, that’s a good way to summarize it. When something’s just within my own perception, to some extent I can normalize it, however miserable it is. But if I pick up that someone else has perceived it then it breaks through and becomes real, and I can no longer wall it off in this numb part of my mind. And then the full force of it hits me.
I may attempt to fake being functional a little, but I’m limited in how much I can pretend, as my close family give updates on my life to more distant relatives from time to time, and it would be mortifying to be contradicted while bullshitting someone. Still, at least at the moment I’m making some progress with work, which hasn’t been the case for most of my adult life. So that’s one less thing I have to feel ashamed of. Nowhere near the qualifications and careers even my younger cousins have obtained, but at least I’m not stacking shelves or unemployed anymore.