Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas San Diego, Ca. March 2012

Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas San Diego, Ca. March 2012
Eddie Arana, Rick Thibodeau, & Chris Bakunas at Luche Libre Taco Shop in San Diego, March 2012

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

The Lasting Effects Of Rejection On An Anxiety-Ridden Actuary


The paranoia and the feeling of inferiority nearly crippled him. Those feelings made it difficult for him to be honest with anyone he met, as he was filled with an unreasonable fear that if he was truly honest about himself to anyone, he would be ridiculed.

There was a tangible air of foreboding whenever he found himself in the company of strangers, no matter how pleasant they appeared to be.

The idea that he was an outsider, and would always be an outsider, had been with him since the onset of adolescence. Over the past thirty-two years it had failed to dissipate. If anything, the feeling had intensified. It was torture for him to have to attend public functions. Even the family get-togethers could be a trial, as there always seemed to be meetings of new partners, friends and mates that he had to suffer through.

Sure, there were people he liked to see, whose company he truly enjoyed if not completely reveled in. Those people were far and few between however, and it seemed to him that most of them stayed away from the gatherings as much as he did.

That was a hellish quandry. His kind were too much like himself. Insecure and uncomfortable around anyone who wasn't as insecure and uncomfortable as they were. 

The Internet had helped with making contact with people who shared similar interests, but not in meeting people with whom he could be comfortable, relaxed. He had yet to be able to bridge the idea of meeting any of the people he chatted with online, even people he had been communicating honestly with for years - if anything, meeting those particular people scared him the most, as they knew too much about him.

So now, a few days before his 45th birthday, he sat alone in the small apartment, pondering the note he had found tucked underneath the windshield wiper. He unfolded it once more and read the sloppily scrawled message:

"Hi. I noticed you checking out Ronald Siegel's book. If you find you would like to discuss it with someone who read it too, I will be at the Library Friday at 2:00. I will be sitting in the reading lounge next to the window on the far left of the room."

With just the smallest tinge of regret, he crumpled up the note and tossed it into the trash. Now, he thought to himself, he was going to have to start going to the Library on 20th.

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