After last night I am zapped.
I’m tired, but I’m also feeling “blank”.
I don’t really want to be around people today, or talk to people, unless they’re cool with sitting in a room with me and being mostly silent. I’m not depressed or angry or sad or happy or anything, just blank.
Sometimes I wish I was like everyone else just for the sake of the people around me. That way they wouldn’t feel awkward or confused when I suddenly stop talking and just feel like doing nothing and saying nothing. That way I wouldn’t appear aloof or careless. That way when someone smiles or something I’m not forcing it just to appease them.
Today is one of those days. Every ounce of emotion I’m feigning. I’ve learned by now that when people smile at you, they expect you to smile back, so I do that automatically without really caring whether or not I mean it. But today is one of those days where it’s a struggle to even get my automatic reflexes to work.
I know it makes me look depressed and everyone wants to be nice to me or whatever, but I’m really not depressed. I’m not sad at all, in fact. Right now, laying in my bed with this computer on my lap, I’m feeling content besides this aching fatigue. I’m not mad at anyone. I’m not sad with anyone. I’m not anything right now besides tired. And most of the tiredness probably comes from the fact that I haven’t eaten more than a few hundred calories each day for the last week and a half. Nor have I been keeping myself hydrated.
I’m not disturbed by this interruptions but I feel like it’s disturbing for everyone else. Even my parents. My mother has gotten used to it since I am her child after all, and I’ve been living with her for twenty years. She knows that when I don’t feel like laughing or smiling or engaging in conversation that I’m having one of those days. So she knows to leave me alone.
I feel like I’m letting people down when I do that, though. I feel like they’re wanting to engage with me and that it’s a bad thing I don’t want to engage with them. But is it really a bad thing?
The more I think about it, the more I’m inclined to say no. This is just how I am. Frequently I don’t want to talk, I don’t want to be around people, and I don’t need to be.
I should also probably eat but after last night, food isn’t appetizing to me at the moment.
At least in my room I’m able to think about this kind of stuff. As soon as I step out of my room door I have to put on a facade and strut around the house like everything is “normal”. I have to strut around in public like all the noise isn’t fucking hammering nails into my head and I have to converse with people like I actually know what I’m doing. I usually fail at that part. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I manage a “hello” or a “how are you doing?” because I know that’s what you’re supposed to do.
It makes me think about jobs. I know I can do the actual job, but could I handle the constant bombardment of people and working with teams and such without feeling like my brain was going to explode? I don’t feel like I could.
If everyone would just talk about photography, books, writing, and technology, I’d never stop talking.
Today I’m not really socially anxious. If I got into a large group of people I could see myself being thoroughly disturbed, but right now I could walk into a grocery store or be out doing whatever and my anxiety wouldn’t impede me as much as this lack of “feeling” would. I just wouldn’t want to even make attempts at speaking like I usually would try to.
When I’m in a group, I like listening to people talk. I don’t really see a reason to get involved unless they’re talking about something interesting like the categories mentioned above (ha). I don’t even know when I’m supposed to talk in a group of four or five. Anything larger than me and two other people confuses me.
Three people also confuses me, but I’ve been learning to manage it a little better. I can weasel my way into the conversation. I might do it via random ass sentences, but hey, at least I’m involved right? The social anxiety part comes in when I have to constantly analyze whether what I said made sense to them or was relevant. Then I wonder if it was stupid. Then I try to judge the look on their faces but I don’t know if what I’m seeing is what is right.
In a larger group, the only way I know when I’ve been quiet too long and people are wondering what’s wrong with me, is when they all stare glancing in my direction. I’ve learned to associate that with “shit, you’re supposed to say something”.
But what am I supposed to say? If we’re analyzing a book, I don’t know how to put my thoughts in words. It’s like my entire brain goes blank. If we’re supposed to say our opinions it’s equally as hard to verbalize my thoughts. Usually I end up sounding arrogant or completely jumbled. They have to give me several interpretations of what I’m trying to say so I can choose which one is right. Social “chit-chat”? Forget it. I don’t understand an ounce of it. It’s pointless. If you’re not talking about something worth talking about, then why say anything at all?
Then the social anxiety comes in. Then I freak out about how they see me. I wonder if they think I’m stupid–that’s a huge fear of mine. I think it came from all the teachers back in elementary school who were always chastising me for learning the way I learn and speaking the way I speak. i think they thought I was stupid.
Besides the whole, reading at high school level in elementary. I think they thought I was really stupid but that I was a good reader.
I remember I hated when I had to speak out loud because they always barked at me for speaking too quietly. One teacher kept interrupting me every third or fourth word to boom “a little louder, please”.
That was harassment, I swear it was. By middle school and High School, the response in my head to them was “open your fucking ears”.
That’s probably part of the reason why I get anxious about talking. I’m someone who genuinely likes to talk (about photography, books, writing) but I find it too difficult to relate to other people. I don’t feel connected to the human race, I really don’t. When I was kid I was pretty sure aliens dropped me off from another planet.
As an adult, I 100% convinced aliens dropped me off from another planet.
I’m thankful that even though my boyfriend and I are complete opposites, at least we have fun together. He probably doesn’t understand me just like everyone else in the world but it’s okay because he kind of tries. Most people don’t. We’ve had some pretty extensive conversations about the world so that’s another plus. I have to be able to have those kind of conversations with people because that’s what I like. I like talking about stupidity and I like being opinionated.
Things I like are easier to talk about. Things I don’t like? I’m at a loss. What am I supposed to say? Why should I have an opinion on it in the first place?
Over the years I think I’ve been through enough that I should have a Ph.D in faking it. I try and be functional because if I’m not . . . then . . . what the fuck am I going do? I don’t really have any other option.
I feel like a child trapped under the expectations of an adult. By now I should be able to converse. I should understand the basics of socialization and I should want to get out there and start doing things. I feel like a four year old still going through a developmental process but not making as much progress as I should.
80% of me likes solitude and doesn’t care about talking or being involved in anything but my interests.
20% of me enjoys talking and gets frustrated that all of me can’t do it correctly.