Confusion

In what's turning into a series of somewhat related posts, I'm going to figure out why it is that I'm so lonely, and how I got here. I'm going to try and be as frank and objective as possible, but obviously as I'm talking about myself (yet again) I won't be able to view things from a completely unbiased perspective.

When I was younger, even as recently as high school (I'm 21 right now), I had a good number of friends. Divided into percentages in a hierarchy of closeness, I'd say they were about 5% best friends, 15% good friends, 35% friends, and 45% acquaintances. Most of them were in the music department at my high school; as the lead cellist in the orchestra, I was a bit of a music nerd, but also smart enough to make it into the honors courses of the school, so I was among the "elites", even if I never totally fit in with them. I thought of myself as a social person, and often went out with friends to the movies/mall/etc. I'd always been the social one of the elder pair of my parents' kids (my older brother is 24, and the younger two are 12 and 10), and my parents would always tell me how easily I'd made friends from a young age.

As convenient as it'd be to draw the line between my social period and my much more withdrawn current self at my suicide attempt in the middle of October 2006 (or my family's discovery of it about a year later), I'm not totally sure that's accurate. I think that a large portion of my character is formed and informed by low self-esteem, and that's something I think I may have always had. At the very least, I've been a bit of a sensitive person throughout my life, good though I am at hiding that now; therefore all the bullying and criticism that I'd received from various people at different times (I don't think it was too much more or less than what everyone goes through) was internalized and validated in my mind. And as I mentioned in my previous post, although I think I might be over my perfectionist tendencies, the fact that I fell so short of my own expectations most of the time didn't help. I don't know whom I imbibed the perfectionist ideals from (it certainly wasn't my parents; if anything, the fact that our parents never seemed to expect much of us was an impetus for me to set my own standards), but they most certainly continue to play a role in how I move through the world, much as I actively try to purge them from my mind knowing the damage that they do.

At the same time, I'm not sure that perfection is as unreachable as it's often said to be. While achieving a perfect mind, perfect body, and perfect personality simultaneously may be impossible, it doesn't mean that achieving some definition of one of those three terms is unlikely. If we widen the definition of them to be simply an accomplished mind, attractive body, and open and friendly personality, I'd say at least a few people had achieved it. As they say, no one's perfect, but I think it's accurate to say that some come closer than others. It's my belief in that last point (which I don't think is really arguable) that has long made me feel so uncomfortable interacting with others.

After all, what should I think people are expecting when they interact with me? The instinctive thing to do initially is look at some one's appearance and work inwards. I'm 6' 5" (190cm), which experience has taught always makes an impression, and ~190lbs (86kg). I know that I'm not fat by most standards, but my body lacks any real muscle tone, so the appearance is more of a skeleton after holiday than anything else, although my bone structure is large enough to make it clear that I have a fair bit of underlying muscle waiting to be developed.

My face has many English characteristics, such as a not-terribly-well-defined chin, lack of cheek bones, and strong jaw, but my eye color (blue), shape, and placement, in addition to my jaw shape, nose, hair (red), and general facial proportions are alright...I think. I'm pretty sure I always notice people looking at my face (specifically) when I walk by (and I don't think I'm imagining it because I'll tend to be looking elsewhere, then look at someone looking at me when I change focus; it is typically women), and it may be because I'm actually fairly attractive, but I'm secretly somewhat terrified that it might be because I'm really unattractive. The only inarguable aesthetic detriment is that I do have quite a lot of acne scarring in my face, although I tend only to notice it in non-natural light. I never had any girls like me in high school (that I know of), but that was mostly because I came out my freshman year, so I think they knew better. I have had a few guys tell me they think I'm attractive, and considering the number as a percentage of guys who are out or gay in my area in the first place, it's a good number. I'd post a picture, but despite living in the age of Facebook, no good ones really exist. Besides, considering my British Isles and Germanic heritage, my inability to hold any sort of tan makes me always less than photogenic.

So assuming that my appearance is at bare minimum inoffensive, personality tends to come second in assessing people as it's more immediately evident than intelligence or wisdom. I've always tried to be a considerate and kind person, and rarely is a door not held open nor a friendly smile not exchanged (the fact that so few people in this part of the country smile at one another is a source of annoyance for me). I tend to fall into the listener position in any conversation as I'm good at getting people to talk about themselves and dislike talking about myself (in person, hence this blog). Having such an entertainingly bitchy best friend has certainly affected me, and I tend to make judgments on first glance to myself due to her influence that I recant to myself later. I may not be a social butterfly anymore, but years and years of practice have yet to let me become rusty at making sure people are comfortable around me.

Finally, there's the issue of intelligence. This is the one I have the most trouble with. As I mentioned earlier, I was in almost all honors classes by the end of high school, and I didn't get there through hard work. The university I'm attending, the University of New Hampshire, isn't exactly a public Ivy, but it's good enough to be ranked 110th out of all the universities in the country, if that says anything; it's not great by any means, but it's not awful either. Additionally, as I have long done, any classes which rely on discussion or paper-writing, things which require quick critical thinking, I tend to do well, and I think people tend to perceive me as one of the "smarter" people in my classes. The fact that I'm capable of doing substantial research papers ~10 pages long in a matter of hours that receive grades in the high B's-low A's is something I feel further substantiates my perception of myself as intelligent. Additionally, I rarely lose an argument, and as a person with a naturally quiet voice, I can assure you that they don't turn into shouting matches. But nonetheless, I always wonder. The only person who I'm almost 100% sure is smarter than I am, whose judgement I trust on this sort of thing nearly unconditionally, is my older brother, and even he has subconscious biological and psychological reasons for thinking that I'm much smarter than the average person.

I'm always nervous--are there things that I don't perceive in daily conversations that are so far beyond my perception I don't even realize I'm missing them? My quantitative reasoning skills feel as though they stopped progressing past middle school, and I wonder if that's led to a sympathetic decrease in my qualitative reasoning skills, too.... I know that most people have these sorts of questions about themselves, but I'm not the sort of person who's good enough at comforting himself to the point where these concerns vanish. After all, if I look at myself from as objective a perspective as I can manage, what have I got to show as a person? I'm attending a fairly average (and seriously overpriced) school, the sort that requires you make something out of your education instead of simply providing you with the sort of pedigree people don't question. I've never had a boyfriend, or even kissed a guy for goodness sake, and I spend most of my days at this point in my dorm room thinking, wasting time, or writing down things like this. I'm not saying that I need to be great, as clearly that's not a terribly achievable goal, vague as it is.

But if I'm even just average, why am I not as happy and socialized and comfortable as everyone else seems to be?