Friday, November 30

Another stone to throw

I am aware that last night was not a disaster. But it sure fucked with me, personally.
I've been taking swing dance classes because the girlfriend loves to dance, and I'm old enough now that going into a room and doing something that won't kill me isn't so embarrassing and fucked up. I could do this, you know?

But as it turns out, I am not a very good dancer. I mean this from as detached a place as I can get; my body just doesn't like to bend or flex in ways that are helpful to dancing. I can manage it with a certain level of adequacy; I don't step on anyone's toes, I can find the beat-or re-find it, if I lose it (which is often)-and generally keep time.

I'm really not so good at leading, though. When you dance, as the guy you're expected to take charge, to decide what gets done next, etc, etc. I am not so good at these things in a social sense, and dancing is entirely social. Yes, yes, I'm still learning all of this stuff, but I'm generally wracked with various forms of indecision, and in the meantime just keeping a beat. Which is boring-eventually my partner is going to wonder why she hasn't been turned, or something'd, you know?

But, I took the classes. They went pretty well, and I thought I had a handle on some stuff. I haven't been in class for a month, but last night was the first chance we had to go out dancing socially, instead of in a class. I was nervous, but I always am when I go into a new situation. It didn't help that I was a little grouchy beforehand, but I was trying to throw that off before we went in, because what's the fucking point in being grouchy?

Ugh. I just...I felt awful out there. My legs were stiff, I couldn't remember the moves, I actually bumped into the girlfriend during a move-something I'd never done before- and nothing seemed to flow.

Worse, everyone, and I mean this, everyone from the 60+yo man on down, was better than I was. Not just better as in; oh, this person is new but improving, that one has a few years under their belt, wow.

No. Everyone was like: I've been doing this since birth, and I'm insanely good at it. They were fast, they were smooth, they were well versed. Every man, every woman; good at it. I tried to follow some couples, to see if I could pick up on some of the moves, or just learn something, but it was really fast, and a lot more complex than what I'd learned.

I got to watch my girlfriend dance with a couple other people, and she got to actually dance, you know? Not clod around while your lead tries to figure his shit out. She looked like she was having a great time--and I don't begrudge her that at all. In addition to my lack of jealousy about these sorts of things, I'm really glad she got to dance, dance, if you take my meaning.

Didn't help so much on the shame factor, though. All I could think about was how much I sucked at all this, and pretty much sucked at life (I've been having to look for a new job-or at least prepare for one, write resume, look at ads, etc-and so we could cheerfully describe my general mood lately as blackhearted.) And, of course, then when I would go out there to dance again, all these terrible mindfucks are not helping me do any better...

Most awkward? I actually had to ask the girlfriend to dance. I don't mean this in a negative way; we'd take breaks between songs and such, but then she'd look at me like: are you going to ask me to dance? Then I have this panic moment; oh shit. I have to ask her to dance? Can't we just go out there and do it? I didn't come here to just hang out, right?

I avoided asking her to dance, pretty much the whole evening. I mean, we did it-but she would nudge me and I'd be noncommittal about it, and then we'd go.

So the whole thing probably felt to her like she was burdening me with this-which makes us less likely to go out and do it again.

But I don't want that! There's no way I'm ever going to be good at this, but I'd like to at least be decent enough (and not ashamed of my ability) to do this and have it work out OK. She likes to dance; I don't want to be the stick in the mud that keeps her from going and having fun.

When we left, she asked me how I was, because I looked, "really bummed out," which was the truth. But I didn't quite have the wherewithal to explain all this then; I just tried to put a good spin on it and say that things will be better next time. I don't actually feel like that, but they certainly can't feel any worse, because I had a good 40 minutes afterward of doing nothing but feeling sorry for myself and wishing I was dead. Then getting into bed and trying to curl up and dissolve into nothing. Then waking up at 3am and feeling depressed. Then wake up this morning and feel glum.

Now I finally am writing this all down-in public no less, and again, really, after last night's journaling-and it's still depressing. Not as bad as it was 12 hours ago, but not good, either. I don't know. I'm just trying to work it out.

Thursday, November 29

I was wrong.

There's also going into a room full of experts as a beginner to rail on the ol' self esteem.

Monday, November 19

There is nothing like looking for work to make you feel worthless.

Saturday, November 3

My brain hurts now

There's...there's just nothing to be said there.