Mental Breakdowns

I think I am going through a low period. No, maybe not a low period, too many good days for it to be actually low. But definitely a weird period. Part of the reason that I haven't written my blog in so long is because my mood changes so often that one day I will start to write and then the next day I'll look back and disagree with everything I've written because my outlook on the world has capsized. The other part of the reason is just that I've been ridiculously busy; sorry to those of you who are actually still reading.

Anyway, it's not like a lot of bad things happen. In fact, January has brought a lot of good. I went to Paris one Saturday (enormous six-week sales in every store in France!) which always puts me in a good mood. I saw an incredible hip hop performance and Mozart orchestra concert. We had a huge family meal (32 people!) last Sunday which was delicious and fun and involved dancing contests on the Wii (in which I tend to do pretty well). Sundays in general are nice because in France there is a January tradition called the "Galette de Roi," a big tart that we have for dessert with a little tiny doll hidden inside. Whoever accidentally bites into the doll is the king or queen and gets to choose someone to rule with them, and the last time we did it I won (although my king, Alice's four year-old nephew, chose himself). France is rich with little traditions like that. Those traditions are some of my favorite things here, I love them. I have been doing well in school and I am starting to learn some new scarf-wearing tricks (I can copy well, but I don't think I'll ever have that ability to just throw it on and look perfect, a talent that all the French girls have). Looking back at all the events, you would think it has been the best month of the year, and I should be the happiest I've been in my life. I am really happy, sometimes. Maybe even verging on most of the time.

And then, sometimes, I crash. My good moods come screeching to random halts and I turn into a basket case. I don't know why they come so suddenly in the middle of perfectly good days, but each breakdown comes for a very similar reason. It all has to do with my lack of social comfort. Sure, I've made progress. I talk more than I used to; I try my best to have as many conversations as possible; I am slightly less inhibited than I was in September. But slightly isn't enough. People will talk to me, things like how was your weekend, did you have fun at the party, do you like the French teacher, but that isn't the same as being really friends with them. How long can you have small talk before the walls come down? I haven't been inside an inside joke in ages. People can have serious conversations with me, but they don't joke and laugh with me like they do with their best friends, like I did in Berkeley. And I know it's my fault. It's like I've forgotten how to be fun, how to joke around and be goofy. I've always been easily embarrassed and never a huge conversation dominator, but I do seem to remember at one point in the distant past being able to let go and belly laugh with my friends and occasionally even be funny myself. When did I get to that point in all my friendships? I know it didn't take this long.

There are a few people who have seen the real me from time to time. With Alice, at home, it's actually really good, I feel more comfortable. I am myself at home. And with a few people at school it is alright as well. But I still feel that most people have no idea who I am. And the problem is, after five months with me in their lives, they think they do. Their opinions of me are becoming more and more solid every day. My window of opportunity is shutting and baby steps aren't doing me any good. How do I show people that I'm not the shy, quiet, boring girl I appear to be? I am familiar with this shy mask because it comes on almost every time I first meet new people. But it always comes off eventually. Why won't it now?

I don't want to be afraid anymore.