Ask Polly: I'm a Drunk And No One Likes Me!

Dear Polly,

I’m 24 and female. I graduated last year and moved to New York City and I’m hopelessly single with no real friends. I know, pretty original. I’ve been here for a year, and I work at a great start-up and I feel suicidal. I’m also an alcoholic.

I feel so insecure that no one likes me. I’m lucky to work at a great company with incredibly smart people. I do customer service, and it’s an investment company, so the questions aren’t always super easy, but I entered the position feeling very, very stupid compared to my coworkers. Six months in, I still feel insignificant and nervous around my coworkers and the general populace. I studied math and grew up around Indian parents who always valued intelligence, and I feel that, by doing this job that doesn’t require much textbook intelligence (much less than what my coworkers do; programming, higher level math, etc.) or creativity (like my cool art and fashion industry acquaintances), I’m somehow deficient. Please note that I do like my job, but I feel insecure about it.

I’m also lucky to work in a place with young people who are cool, where drinking is encouraged. However, this makes me feel even more insecure, because I feel like these people don’t like me as much as they could. They’re very kind, but I feel insufferable, and I do have a loud, aggressive personality that I find hard to tone down. I feel judged and needy because I feel that they can tell that I’m dying for their love and attention.

I especially feel insecure at times when I drink, because I have never been able to control myself under the influence of alcohol. Not only am I a lightweight, but I get angry, sad, and sometimes violent. I meet nice guys who fall for me and my unique personality, and then they see my ugly drunk side and dump me. This has happened over, and over again. When I meet someone new, I’m just waiting in fear of when they find out about this crazy side and leave, like always. I don’t expect happiness for myself and I don’t see it in my future in my current path.

I think sometimes it even makes me feel good — to know that I was dumped because of almost a clinical, uncontrollable condition like alcoholism, rather than a serious deficit in my personality (I know this is crazy, because my alcoholism has come to define me, and my relationships). I’ve also lost lots of friendships due to my drinking. I have no respect for myself.

I’ve been drinking heavily since I was 18. This is because alcohol, and drinking culture, is so integral with every single one of my friends and coworkers. Drinking is also how a lot of my friendships and relationships have formed and been nurtured. I met the last guy I was seeing at a bar. I don’t like online dating, as my biggest turn-ons are men who have lots of friends and are extroverted, and these types of guys don’t need the internet. Bars are where I meet new people. My work also has free happy hour every Friday, where we all bond. It’s my entire social life. However, when I drink (not all the time, but increasingly more often), a very dark, ugly side comes out — an anger so deep, that I have rarely ever experienced it sober. During the worst times, I black out, and I forget all the bad stuff that happens — and my friends, my exes, don’t. They had to deal with it.

I’ve physically attacked some of my best friends for no reason, and have almost gotten arrested multiple times. I’ve said horrible things to my roommates and acquaintances. The worst is with people I’m dating. I’ve wanted to stop drinking since I was 19. I guess I just don’t think about the dark stuff when I pick up my first drink of the night — I think about the 15 minutes of fun I had before I got too drunk and went crazy, or those times that nothing bad happens (though those nights are rare).

The last guy I really liked, maybe loved, dumped me after I yelled at him, sobbing, for no reason, in front of a group of laughing strangers in front of a hip nightclub in NYC. I also fought with him and became very combative for no reason under the influence, as remnants of my fights with my exes would bubble up. Who would want to date someone like this? My reputation is literally fucked.
Because I have no strong friends or relationships, I feel like a bad person: evil, unloveable. I’ve wondered if I’m a sociopath, because I keep drinking even though I’ve hurt so many people, and done so many fucked up things. I desperately want to be in a loving relationship and have warm friends, but I’ve never been in a real, healthy relationship, and am scared that I am too scarred to ever maintain one. I feel insecure all the time, and am sure I give off a nervous, negative energy, so consequently, I have not been meeting any guys (whereas before, I would meet guys all the time who would come to hate me. I am not on speaking terms with any of my exes, or flings). I have no friends, but small acquaintances, who I feel do not like hanging out with me (usually, I’ll get invited out to bars once in a blue moon). I’m so lonely, it physically hurts.

As I enter my mid-20s, I know my personality will be “solidified” and I’ll be this general person for the rest of my life. I fucking hate myself right now. I love my sense of humor, my general extrovertedness and my energy, but maybe that’s all bullshit because I have no friends to show for it.

I know the answer is obvious: stop drinking. What the heck will I do to meet and socialize with people then? All the best, coolest people I have ever met all drink heavily like it’s their job. I’m also scared that once I stop drinking, I won’t make any new friends or meet guys.

Also, how do I stop being so insecure? I feel just like I’m in middle school again and I’m the weird foreign kid that everyone hates, or is, at the very least, annoyed by. It’s killing me inside.

Can’t Stop

Dear CS,

When I first met my husband, he had an old dog that was always trying to lick your teeth. If you ignored the dog completely, he would whine softly, wondering if you really loved him or not, but he’d leave you alone. If you paid any attention to him at all — crouched down to pet him or to talk to him — he’d lunge at your face and stick his tongue in your mouth. (He had amazing timing and accuracy. Open your mouth for half a second, and his tongue was swiping across your front teeth like some foul mop.)

That dog was never satisfied. He was pretty sure you hated his guts, but he punished you for merely acknowledging his existence. Eventually, you did hate his guts. He trained you to feel that way about him.

The dog needed more exercise, and he needed to be sternly prevented from tooth-licking back when he was young and adorable and his tongue didn’t resemble a dying fish’s asshole yet.

“Do fishes have assholes?” That’s what you’d ask me if you weren’t drinking too much and questioning your self-worth constantly. You’d be capable of spontaneity. You wouldn’t alternate between grandstanding and attacking people and apologizing for yourself and shrinking away into nothing. You could say whatever sprang to mind, or you could be quiet. You wouldn’t emit a soft whine whenever people ignored you. You wouldn’t punish people for socializing with you, dating you, or otherwise paying attention to you.

Maybe you’d be calm enough to notice that you’re just as smart and interesting as those creatives and math geniuses around you. If you were seeing a really good therapist, going to AA meetings, and refusing the temptation to rip your well-being to shreds every few days, you might notice that at least half of those people who drink like it’s their job aren’t actually drinking that much. When you’re a drunk, you always assume everyone else is getting wasted, too. But some of those people are nursing the same drink for hours, but still getting loud and bawdy just like everyone else, then waking up at 6 a.m. for a jog the next day.

No matter what those people are doing, though, you must not drink anymore. You don’t know who you are yet, and you’re preventing yourself from getting any kind of a grip on your identity every time you pick up a drink and erase your sanity. Every time you drink, you end up running your stanky tongue across someone’s mouth. People don’t like you for a very good reason. You’re trying to grab what you need, to lash out at people for not giving it to you, but you’re not giving them a thing, and you’re destroying your own will to live in the process.

I know that more self-hatred isn’t going to help. All I want to say to you is that the mediocre, shy, boring person you fear you are is actually funny, clever, unique, and eminently lovable. Strip away the blustery bullshit and the laborious attempts to win attention and love, and you’re automatically a lot more interesting.

This is what you need to do: Get a therapist. Join a gym and go every day. Go to an AA meeting every night. Start writing in a journal. Accept a brand new life of squareness, averageness, unimpressiveness. Don’t broadcast. Don’t charm anyone. Try to be very quiet. Allow yourself to be ignored. Make yourself a long reading list, and dedicate yourself to it. Join a meditation group. Play the shy, dull girl. Listen. Watch. You will be amazed at how many people want to know more, are drawn to you, respect you, admire you.

Out there in the world, millions of people are loved for who they really are. When you hang out with bar-hopping hipsters, that can sometimes convince you that you need a lot of witty banter and madcap antics to keep the world interested in you. Don’t get me wrong; some of my closest friends are bar-hopping hipsters. Just rest assured that, down the road, some of the very traits that captivate us socially start to sound more like soft whining. People who know themselves and love themselves — whether they’re socially smooth or awkward, outspoken or quiet — are the best people to know. (Go read this very practical guide to having fun while not drinking by Anne T. Donahue right now.)

You’re wrong about your personality being solidified in your 20s. Nothing is every solidified, not in your 20s or 30s or 40s or beyond. Staying flexible and refusing to see yourself as doomed is a big part of that. You’ll feel better and better about yourself as your 20s pass, but you must start treating yourself like someone who matters in the world. If that means you need to aim to have a job that’s more ambitious and uses your smarts or creativity more, then make that one of your goals. But first and foremost, you need to stop looking to other people’s faces and words for reassurance, and decide for yourself who you are and what you want from this life. When you feel yourself trying to seek out approval and attention, just stop. Dare to exist at the periphery of the conversation.

It’s OK that you landed here. You’re young and you’re learning how to navigate a crazy world. Everyone makes a big mess of things when they’re in their 20s. “I made a lot of mistakes, I made a lot of mistakes,” Sufjan Stevens sings over and over at the end of “Chicago,” and his melancholy is laced with a redemptive kind of forgiveness. Forgive yourself for fucking up, and know that you will be loved and adored and heard and treasured as a friend. You will have everything you’ve ever wanted.

But you need to stay sober and believe in yourself like it’s your job. Now is the time to cultivate your sense of gratitude for small things. Walk outside, in the early morning chill, in the pouring rain, and tell yourself: I am fully alive, I am eminently lovable, and my life is just beginning.

Polly

Hi Polly,

I recently met the perfect guy. Super cute, hilarious, able to tolerate my particular brand of crazy, and also super kinky and sex positive! Score! Things were going so well (for once), but he suddenly ended things a few weeks ago. Needless to say I was devastated. When I asked him what was wrong, he gave me a laundry list of issues. He said that the main two reasons were that I was too self-deprecating and not very confident, and also that I was always apologizing for myself. More specifically, I was incapable of making decisions because I was so hung up on choosing something that made everyone happy. He didn’t want to have to play motivational coach in our relationship, which is completely understandable. I’ve been strung along and treated like shit by a lot of people in the past (especially relationship-wise), and I can’t help but think that has something to do with all of this.

I’ve always been a fairly self-deprecating person (in a way which I at least thought was funny), but this was kind of a rude awakening for me. People have always told me that I beat myself up way too much, and that I need to stop apologizing for things that are not my fault, but I never thought that it was really all that much of an issue until now. I guess that I don’t really have that much self-confidence, and I want to change. I’d like to stop thinking that everyone hates me all the time, and that I constantly need to apologize for my day to day actions, and come to terms with the fact that not everyone in the world is going to think I’m awesome.

I know deep down that I’m very funny, attractive, and affectionate. People who aren’t my parents tell me this often, usually with a “but” at the end! However, I’m still stuck in this rut of thinking that I’m not good enough and worrying that everything I do is going to piss someone off. I think that I want to be this super confident person whose actions make everyone happy, and I think that’s kind of unrealistic, but who knows. I really just want someone to love me and think that I’m awesome.

Best,

Super Negative

Dear Super Negative,

You don’t sound that negative, actually. You just need to stop whining softly in the corner, because people don’t want to be reminded of your needs every few seconds. When you apologize profusely for something dumb, you’re not serving other people. You’re soothing your own insecurity. You’re a dog who keeps jumping up on everyone in the room. They want you to leave them the fuck alone.

Sometimes the root cause of this behavior is just sensitivity. It’s not that you’re all that self-involved, it’s just that you can see when people’s faces change ever so slightly, and it makes you wonder if you did something wrong. It’s also possible that a lot of your friends and acquaintances right now don’t quite match you. When I moved to LA, I made some friendships that didn’t suit me, and I’d get sort of wishy-washy and questioning around those people because I could see that they found me irritating. Their upbeat small talk made me so impatient that I felt I had to break in with some curmudgeonly naysaying just to set things right. This made me seem pretty negative. That was before I met an assertive group of mistfits that greeted outspokenness and skepticism like it was pure, clear water running straight out of a mountain spring.

Either way, your problem is solved by resisting the urge to take other people’s temperature constantly. You have to try to stop noticing the second when people think you’re a little off, and when you do notice, you have to step back instead of trying to do something to “fix” it. Whatever crazy strident opinions or verbal tics you might have, that’s not the part that matters. What matters is that you don’t see a neutral or indifferent or vaguely disapproving reaction, and then jump in with apologies or worse, questions (“Are you mad? Is that ok? Do you feel weird about me?”). Firing questions at people about yourself is like licking their teeth with your dying-fish-asshole tongue. Shut up and walk away.

Not everyone is going to love you. The “perfect” guy is not perfect if he can’t say a thing about how he perceives you until he’s out the door. Go out there and find the people who like you for who you are, and tolerate the rest of them. But don’t insist that everyone adore you. Don’t roll out some song and dance. Don’t charm the pants off anyone. Don’t win people over. Don’t address every tiny mistake.

Like LW1, you need to step back and listen more. You might be better served by hanging out with someone who’s mature enough to find insecurities and sensitivity to the feelings of others sort of endearing rather than flatly irritating. But that means you might have to tolerate a real person with insecurities of his own. Can you do that, or are insecure people as repellant to you as you sometimes are to yourself?

The more you can accept yourself as you are right now, with no pending improvements or upgrades, the more you’ll find patient, understanding, flawed people are your ideal company.

Good luck!

Polly

Do you feel like a refugee from the island of misfit toys? Write to Polly and discuss!

Heather Havrilesky (aka Polly Esther) is The Awl’s existential advice columnist. She’s also a regular contributor to The New York Times Magazine, and is the author of the memoir Disaster Preparedness (Riverhead 2011). She blogs here about scratchy pants, personality disorders, and aged cheeses. First photo by Dave Wilkie. Second needy dog photo by Tony Alter.