Pondering my inability to fit in today.

On the floor of the Granville Street Skytrain Station (Canada Line), which is the one I get off at in order to get to school, there is a massive ad for Vancouver Film School. The ad is covered in Tetris blocks, and says “Vancouver Film School : Where You Fit.”

I want to set it on fire. ^[1]

Because fuck you, ad. Turns out I don’t fit in there, either. I try so hard but I always end up with people blinking at me and then going on as though I hadn’t said anything. I still feel like a total outsider. And I am getting sick of it.

And I am sick of it all being my fault, too. Not that I have any rational basis for blaming anyone else for my pain. But try telling that to my wounded id.

At least the problem is limited to when I am in class. On those days where I have two classes and hence end up eating my Subway lunch in the student lounge, I usually do kind of okay. There’s been days when I felt really bad, all lonely and isolated and excluded and like I am some kind of monster, but for the most part I can chat with folks.

But in class… sigh. I don’t know what to do. I can’t seem to bridge the gap between me and the others. And I so desperately want to feel included.

Which is probably part of the problem, as I have discussed before.

And I can’t figure out what it is about what I say that doesn’t click with people. Maybe it’s a matter of presence, not phrasing. My words are fine but I don’t back them up with force of personality and so they don’t make an impression in people’s minds.

Or maybe I am just on a totally different level from people and I might as well be trying to communicate with ants.

Or maybe it’s a generational thing. I seem to get on okay with the teachers. They are all my age. Brian, one of the teachers I had today, is 45. That’s only two years older than me. I have a lot more in common with them.

And I suppose they will be the people I am depending upon for leads and recommendations. So there’s that.

Or maybe I am just a fucked up freak.

The thing is, I know I am a good writer. So technically, none of this shit matters. I could go through the course as a total hermit, ignoring my fellow students till I graduate then disappearing over yon horizon with my degree, never to look back again ever.

Might cost me some recommendations from my fellow students, with whom I am supposed to have forged a deep bond by now. when we all get out in the industry, but I could probably survive that.

But I like my fellow students. And it’s not like they dislike me. I don’t know exactly what they think of me, but I know they don’t hate me or anything. They just don’t know how to handle me, and that just make them the same as nearly everybody else.

Including me. Trust me, if I could hand people a manual to dealing with me, I would.

Were I a saner man, I would simply accept that I have it okay with a friendly but detached relationship with my fellow students, and be content with that.

But I see them hanging out together and laughing and having fun, and it looks like they are a lot closer to each other than they are to me, and it tears me apart. Because it just proves that I am the odd one out, like usual.

And being alone in a crowd full of happy people is far, far worse than being alone. It makes me want to scream. There it is, the warm and accepting world that has always effortlessly excluded me, right in front of me but no matter how hard I reach out, I can’t be part of it.

Part of the problem was that, in that first part of my first term, they invited me to things and I turned them down because I was not healthy enough at that point to attend. So they stopped asking, and so I fell off the social calendar forever.

Because when people don’t succeed at something, eventually they stop trying.

And I am far too shy to ask to be included now. Besides, it would just come across as creepy and awkward and very very lame.

“Um, can I please be invited to all your COOL PARTIES? *drool*”

I don’t think so. So that’s not a possibility. And it’s not like I can think of a more subtle way to get the message out that wouldn’t be just as weird and sad.

All this makes my dark side whisper into my ear. It says “So what? Fuck them. If all that’s left to you is to be a prick, be a prick. Use your force of personality and verbal skills to get your way. Manipulate people. Forget about being liked and worry about being respected. Throw all that mental weight around. Give people the clear message that fucking with you is a very bad idea. Stop being so restraining and careful, stop walking on eggshells around the pygmies, and use all that power you know you have to get what you want and fuck anyone who gets in your way. JUST. FUCKING. TAKE. WHAT. YOU. WANT. ”

And I am not sure whether it’s morality or cowardice that holds me back. It’s true that I don’t want to be yet another self-centered asshole in the entertainment industry.

But maybe people are like that because that’s what WORKS.

Right now, I would sell my soul for a higher standard of living, with more cash and  autonomy and a car and driver.

Or hell. I would sell it for a minimum wage income.

Is that sad, or what?

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.