DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I have problems making social connections of any kind, whether platonic, romantic, or sexual. This manifests itself in different ways, I’m rarely, if ever, able to initiate conversation, I rarely, if ever, share anything about myself, and I don’t ever reach out to people. This makes any relationship I have not very good, obviously, and mostly superficial. And as for the possibility of me dating like this, ha ha, good one.
This has made me feel really sad, and affects me in other areas. I feel incredibly lonely constantly. I’m feeling symptoms of depression and anxiety from this.
I really want to reach out and ask for help, or at least to lend an ear, from people I consider friends. I have a therapist and am currently looking to find a good therapy group, which is something I probably should keep doing, but I don’t think that should be my only source of help. For one, my therapist is only going to hear my side of what’s happening, I can only talk for one hour a week with him, and he can’t really give me much insight as to how I come across in those specific social situations since he isn’t at them. I wish to reach out for support, but there are plenty of concerns I have about this. For one, while the people I’d reach out are those I’d consider friends, I’m not sure how close they’d consider me.
Furthermore, since they’re at least somewhat involved, I’m not sure how they’d react. Like, I can think of a reaction like “What, you don’t think you’re included? I thought we were friends.”
So, should I even reach out for help? If so, how?
Without A Little Help From My Friends
DEAR WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM MY FRIENDS: Let’s flip this for a second, WALHFMF: how would you feel if someone you cared about – a friend, a family member, someone – was suffering and desperately wanted help and a connection… and they were afraid to say anything to you for fear of… well, anything?
Odds are good that you’d be split between “why didn’t you come to me with this sooner?” and “What did I do that made you think I wouldn’t want to help you?” You might even feel upset that someone you cared about felt like they couldn’t come to you for help and that they’d been suffering in silence all this time.
And why wouldn’t you feel that way? These are people who you have invited into your life, given them a place of prominence and connection and have bonded with. Being friends means being a source of support and caring when things get rough, not just someone who’s only around for the good times or when things are easy. Finding out that someone wanted to reach out but felt like they couldn’t would likely feel like a weird combination of empathy and feeling insulted.
You’re dealing with a classic Hedgehog’s Dilemma; the hedgehog wants to be closer to its family and friends to share heat when the winter’s cold, but worries that getting close means stabbing each other with their quills. You’re in a place where you’ve cut yourself off from connection and intimacy with others, almost assuredly as a form of self-protection against pain and rejection. But the problem is that you’re still hurting and desperately lonely. So that sort of self-protection just ends up being counterproductive; it not only doesn’t spare you from the pain, but it exposes you to different and even worse pain. Loneliness and isolation is a literal killer, and far more harmful than rejection.
So, yes, you absolutely should reach out to your friends. They want a connection with you. If they care about you, they want to hear when you’re troubled and they’re going to want to help.
I understand the worries you have. Part of what you’re worried about is the possibility of making things worse by reaching out – by dumping all your trauma on them, by over-sharing or by insulting them for not saying so earlier.
Hedgehogs ultimately solve this dilemma by finding the distance that’s a compromise between sharing warmth without being so close that they hurt one another. The way humans solve the hedgehog’s dilemma is through boundaries and understanding that not everyone has the same level of intimacy or access. Think of it like user permissions on a computer. Some folks only get access to certain apps. Some get access to all apps, but none of the system settings. Some people get access to some settings, but not all, and a select few – people who’ve earned it – get admin privileges.
Right now, the only person who gets access to any of the system settings is your therapist. As you’ve said: that’s pretty limiting, for a number of reasons. Your friends, on the other hand, only get access to certain apps. That needs to change; you can and should open up a bit more to them.
So what I would suggest here is that you start off with a small number of the people you feel that you can trust the most – the people whose actions say that they’re empathetic and supportive. Open up to them. Start by asking if you can be real with them for a second and that you’re dealing with this loneliness and anxiety and you could use some support. You don’t want to give them the same level of access your therapist currently has – you don’t need to dump your every problem and feeling on them – but you can definitely start by talking about what you’re feeling and what you need, at least in the near-term.
It can help to be specific in what you ask for – what kind of help would you like and what would it look like? Start with a relatively low level version of this – wanting to spend more time, wanting their honest opinion or help with your behavior in social situations, etc. Starting with a low-investment, low-stakes ask may be easier for you, since it won’t feel like you’re making a huge imposition on someone or putting too much stress on a relationship that isn’t built for that level of intimacy. It will, however, help you get into the habit of actually opening up to your friends and offering more than just a surface-level connection. Intimacy and connection require vulnerability and vulnerability can be scary. Taking steps to build that emotional muscle can help you get to a place where you feel like your friendship is strong enough to bear it and that you’re strong enough to ask for that help.
It’s also important to recognize that connecting and being closer with someone isn’t just going to be about being vulnerable about the bad s--t. Sometimes being close with people means also sharing the good things and the stuff you’re excited about. You want to share the celebrations as well as the dirges. Trust me: folks want to hear about the good news, the excitement and to join you in celebrating when good things happen.
At the same time, be sure to offer your help and support too, when it’s needed. Friendships are a two-way street, and ideally you want to keep the what you give/ what you get ratio roughly even. Yes, what you’re capable of offering may not be much at first, but even just saying “what can I do to help?” or “what can I do that would be helpful?” can a huge step, and one that’s significant to them.
I know all of this can be incredibly intimidating and this is the sort of situation that makes the anxiety weasels in your head bounce around like they’re on a meth binge with paint stripper on their nipples. But you’ve already taken equally difficult and important steps that are just as anxiety-provoking. You’ve demonstrated you’ve got the strength to do this. Grit your teeth and white-knuckle your way through that initial burst of anxiety; you’ll be much happier when you break through to the other side.
You’ll be ok. I promise.
All will be well.
Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com