Peter Pan Syndrom

The second week of my internship has officially commensed and it's just as awkward as the first day I went in.
I was hoping things would get easier, more comfortable. But that comfort level remains to be seen. I keep making jokes and no one seems to laugh.

I have to wonder what exactly it is that makes me so awkward? If you're a friend of mine, you probably wouldn't peg me as the "painfully shy" type, but if you've ever met me my first week on the job, you know what I'm talking about.

I clam up, my hands get sweaty, breathing becomes a difficult task, and my voice resembles that of a nervous 5 year old. I don't tend to give the best first impressions.

You should see the looks I get from the people I work with at the record label. They are looks of udder confusion. I can see the thoughts on the other side of their eyes. "Why is her voice so squeaky?" "Did she REALLY just say that?" "Is she going to say anything or am I going to have to save this conversation yet again?"

It's painful, it really is.

I want to get past this phase in my life where I'm so unconfident and unsure of myself. I go into situations with the best of intentions and the utmost expectations, and I come out with the same results, sitting in my room bewildered by the word vomit that spilled out of my mouth throughout the day.

I know that the early 20s is a time of self discovery and enlightnement about who I truley am, and I'm sure I will look back on this time and giggle at the silly things I did with my life and the miniscule things I worried about (like the vacant looks my bosses give me) but that doesn't change the tightening in my chest and sick feeling in stomach I feel every time one of my "jokes" fall flat at the office, and when I relive it over and over and over again afterwards.

So out of fear, I remain at my desk when everyone else goes out to lunch. At least when we are in the office, I can retreat to the comforts of my desk and the endless "grunt work" I have before me each day. But the sheer thought of sitting at a table, attempting (and inevitably failing) at small talk with these three guys, who surely think I am some anti social freak at this point, with no where to run when that familiar blank stare crawls across their faces, absolutely terrifies me. And because of this fear I am missing out on important conversations and relationships I can use throughout the rest of my life and career. There's so much I could learn from them if I simply sat down to lunch and picked their brains. But instead, that time of day where they leave to enjoy civilized, unawkward meals is the biggest sigh of relief for me. I am left alone in the office to just be myself. Now why I can't I be myself when they come back?

My oh so helpful sister offered up the explination that I may be able to speak in tounges and don't realize it, which is the cause of the blank stares I receive whenever I open my mouth.
Not likely, but possible I suppose. And at least it made me laugh.

I personally think it's because I try so hard to be the person I think I am or think I should be and in the middle of all the trying, I become someone I never wanted to be.
It's hard realizing you have a lot of growing up to do. Most people are blissfuly ignorant to this fact. It's only visible to everyone else they come in contact with. Even that would be a better alternative to the agonizing realization that you are, in fact, a wreck when it comes to important social encounters.

And what's more difficult is realizing that you have no idea how to fix or change it.
How does one make themselves grow up?
I'd be fine with never growing up, as long as no one else grew up either
Maybe Peter Pan was on to something...