June 11, 1992

I hate myself. Why can’t I talk when I’m with those friends of Jane’s? I always have so much to say. I’m even better with Genevieve’s friends than Jane’s. Why do I always clam up and shut up? Why do they intimidate me so much? I just cannot figure it out. They must all wonder what the hell I’m doing when I hang around them. They must wish I would go away. Jane told me that the guys all think I’m pretty but think I should talk. But they ignore me. When they look at me it’s like “what are you doing here?” All they ever talk about is sex, and farting, and burping! That must be why I clam up, because I could not add anything. If they would just talk about something I am interested in and ask me what I think I could go on forever. If I am invited to go to La Ronde with them I will go because I love La Ronde but I am going to be so weirded out. Maybe I should get myself on a major sugar high so I can be weird with them. I hate myself… 

                                    This is so sad. At least now I have the answer to the why. It’s social anxiety. I wonder if my adolescence would have been easier if I’d had a name for the problem, if I’d had a diagnosis. Probably not. It doesn’t make things much easier now. But at least the self-loathing is gone!

Nicole Natacha Yager, Genius in the next dimension.   

Lol! Wow. Genius, eh? Nice.


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