Dinner with Friends Part 5: Darian and the Power of Being You

I really need to get back into the process of writing. I could give my self an out via a myriad of excuses (work, obligations, antidepressants) but the truth is I'm just not exercising that muscle at the moment. Got off the mat man, get off the mat!

A few weeks ago, I decided to invite my friend Darian for dinner. He's among my newest friends within my inner circle, therefore wanted to try a recipe I've never tried before.

I met Darian about a year ago at Emily's going away party. Truth be told, I had ulterior motives to get to know him, as I found his younger sister to be quite striking. As it became clear that she wasn't interested, Darian's amiability shone through an we kind of glomed onto each other. He works for a company that makes LEGO models of military equipment and vehicles - a profession that sounds downright bonkers now that I put it down in writing. Then again between Reese being a professional Origami teacher and me being a fake scientist at a roller rink, being a military LEGO manager seemed like a perfect continuation into the absurd.

Your sisters hot, there I said it!

For dinner we had baked chicken with a honey pomegranate sauce with chopped cashews, wild rice and a kale salad. We went upstairs and started to watch Dirty Rotten Scoundrels but ended up talking for a long time about history and philosophy. After that, we fell into a YouTube hole which culminated into me introducing him to Michael Reeves - a YouTube personality that creates ridiculous contraptions that serve no purpose other than to solve problems badly. I had him hooked by the time we stumbled into his most popular upload: A Roomba that screams when it bumps into stuff.

A few weeks after the dinner I was in a bad way. I went to support my friend Shirley who was part of a charity comedy show at a local brewery. It was a crowded room which usually makes me uncomfortable but I was cognitive enough avoid bunching into crowds or isolating myself as to become self-conscious. I sat next to Shirley during the showcase and we talked a bit before then about her latest relationship drama.

The anxiety didn't really kick in until after the show. Shirley had a new friend in her midst who had a weird energy I wasn't mentally prepared for. Then show runner came up to me after all was done and told me the non-profit I've been helping with had a charity showcase up on the 15th of this month. I've been neglecting to advertise or formulate a set for it which really had my mind going sideways.

Not reading this on me, Shirley invited me to a mic and I sheepishly accepted when I should have just biked home. I ended up leaving the mic early after girl Casey arrived and before the mic had even started. Before then I had been rocking back and forth in my bar stool and hiding myself in my coat. I biked home; the combination of severe social anxiety and crisp cold air had my skin breaking out into hives by the time I got home. Shirley texted to see if I was okay. I wasn't.

Not wanting to worry her and having already talked to Maisie about my previous mini-episode, I called Darian. I try to stagger my spiral-calls so I don't overwhelm my friends you see. Darian was wise enough to act as a sounding board; largely listening and being supportive. He too had experienced anxiety in the past. He over came it by being a phenom on the guitar and just growing to be comfortable with himself.

That same sentiment was repeated by Shirley the next day when things got oh so much worse. I spoke to my ex over the phone partially to catch up, partially to gloat about my latest accomplishments, speak at length about how much better I'm doing without her and telegraph profusely how over her I am. After talking about the marathon, my various (and let's be honest, marginal) social and comedy successes, she dropped a bomb on me - she's engaged. That in combination with Raquel cancelling on a visit to Chicago from Michigan had my mind in a severe spiral so intense that I had to leave work early.

Shirley met me at my place and comforted me before she had to go in for work. "You have to love yourself first before you can accept love from someone else," a point she hammered in by having me watch Daniel Sloss: Jigsaw on Netflix. I'm not sure if I internalized the overall message to Jigsaw completely, but it did nudge me back into a clearer mindset. My therapist joked later that week that Shirley got me to understand what she had been trying to tell me for months.

I don't know. Is it possible to truly be comfortable in your own skin? To love yourself unconditionally? Aly and Darian seem to be two of the most well-adjusted people I know yet we've come to a point in our friendships where I've peeked into their insecurities. I suppose part of growth is deciding which aspects of yourself you can't change therefore need to accept, and things you can change for the sake of a more positive self-image.

For example, I am self-conscious about my height but try as I might, I can never be taller. So I just need to learn to accept that. But being a better listener - that's a skill set I can learn and have the desire and grit to do so. Things get sticky when it comes to being comfortable in social situations however. Should I carefully plan my social interactions to avoid anxiety? Should I continue treating it like a phobia and hammer away at long-term behavioral therapy? Should I find a new healthier crutch to wade through that mess - something that isn't alcohol? Should I forfeit large social groups altogether?

I've worked on myself consistently over the last year and a half and my social anxiety remains the largest obstacle to becoming someone I can accept being. Where I go from here is anyone's guess.