"Do You Want to Go Outside?"
My response to the title question was, "No, thanks, I'm just observing." Plus, would it not make sense that if I had wanted to be outside, I would already be there? I was then asked if I wanted to watch television, a question to which I responded with something approximating, "No, I'm fine." I don't like watching TV, and even if I had wanted to, I would have certainly already turned it on. At this point, dear reader, I am sure you are completely clueless (as really you should be) as to how, when, and where this exchange took place and also the significance of it. Well, buckle up! Here we go...
Several weeks ago, I was invited to attend a family function. This function was a surprise party to be held in celebration of my aunt and uncle's 30th wedding anniversary. My ideas on marriage notwithstanding (which I shan't get into here), reluctantly, I agreed to go. Yes, for some reason--a reason which still eludes me even now--I agreed to go. Now that you have some background information, I can explain the opening paragraph.
I was sitting alone on the couch in the living room at said party looking out the window to the gathering outside. One of my older cousins, a person I haven't seen in years, asked me the title question as she walked through to go outside. I responded as I've already mentioned, and the second question was posed. I responded, and she exited the house. Little did she know that at the time I was virtually writing this essay in my head. The party was, to me, just further proof that I don't belong at social events.
It is at this time that I would like to employ an excellent Roger Waters quote, a quote that I have kept in my head since I first read it. In the liner notes for Pink Floyd's "Is There Anybody Out There?" live double CD, Roger wrote, "I had to get all that stuff out or spend the rest of my life as that man in black off to the side at the party, apparently aloof behind dark glasses and a cigarette, but in reality scared to death of any ordinary human encounter." Indeed, much of the concept behind "The Wall" builds on this idea, but I digress.
That Roger Waters quote is me. I have mentioned elsewhere in my various writings that I dislike social gatherings. I have no business being at any party, and really I doubt if I'd even be invited if the host/hostess didn't feel like I "had to" be invited. Concerts and other similar events are usually OK because there is very little, if any, talking or visiting. Plus, everybody is there for the music, not socializing or sharing. However, other social events (parties, etc.) are very troubling to me. I don't do well in these sorts of situations, and they are very stressful to me. I am, for the most part, socially inept. I never go anywhere, and I never do anything. Some people are social butterflies; I'm a social slug.
As I was staring out the window engulfed in my own thoughts, largely bored with the entire event and somewhat upset I couldn't take up a pen right then and there and begin scribbling down my ideas, I began to think about exactly why I was feeling what I was feeling. I came up with many answers.
Humans, supposedly, are social animals. That certainly ain't me. I simply feel like I don't belong on this planet. Maybe, physically, the one exception to this is my apartment. Other than that, I really only belong in my thoughts, either on paper or, more often, in my own head. It is here that I can be most honest, most open, and most myself. I don't have to pretend like I want to be at party X when in reality I don't want to be there at all. Pulling off this acting job is difficult for me because I usually try to be (and want to be) very honest. I don't like to pretend I want to hear about somebody's kid who I don't know or about somebody's surgery. These are people that I either don't know or that I haven't seen in years. I can't be myself, mainly because I don't feel like I have anything in common with...well...pretty much anybody. Instead of watching television, I'm sitting down with Edgar Allan Poe. Instead of going out and getting drunk, I'm sitting down to fill numerous pages of yellow paper with strange black squiggles. Could you imagine the reaction I'd get if I started talking about what goes through my head? "Yeah, last night I dreamt I got crucified, and last week I woke up screaming after I smashed my hand into the wall next to my bed trying to fight off a shark head attack." "Errr...yeah...right...I think I'll go over there and talk to Uncle Ted for a while. Nice seeing you again..." Meanwhile, the awkward smiles on their faces would betray their truest, innermost thoughts. "...You fuckin' nutball..."
Not being a trained professional and having had only (if I remember correctly) one semester of college-level general psychology, I feel somewhat unqualified to make the following two-word diagnosis, but I'm going to make it anyway. I'm paranoid. I don't think I'm God (who does not exist), but I do feel that something is lurking around every corner. I routinely entertain the notion that everybody's out to get me. I also feel like I'm often being judged, perhaps because I often judge myself (and usually decide that I'm just fine for me). I do, indeed, have proof that such judging is the case. The long hair always gets somebody. I was told I should cut it off and sell it to chemo patients. You know what, get off the hair thing already. Move on. I don't say anything about your short (female) hair, so why do you feel it necessary to say something about my long (male) hair? I'm different. So what? Maybe I'm weird. So what? As a side note, there is no difference between "male" and "female" hair. Its length is culturally determined, not biologically determined. Society determines the "acceptable" length for each sex.
I did do something on purpose for this gathering that nobody mentioned, but I'm sure it was thought about. The theme of the party was a Hawaiian luau. I don't do Hawaiian luau. My clothing choice? A black Opeth T-shirt and blue jeans. This obviously stuck out, but I wore something comfortable as I always do when not working, and I wasn't about to go out and buy something new that I'd never wear again. ...And I didn't get a lei, either. Such is my life...
In talking with coworkers and in comments made by party-goers, I have come to the conclusion that I must be one of the most cold-hearted people on the planet. I believe in asylum isolation for everyone in the entire world. I do not crave or even desire most common human contact or interaction, and I may even take steps to avoid it. Family is no exception. Take it or leave it. Whatever. I don't care. I can do without it. I get nothing out of it, and I doubt anyone else gets anything out of my presence, so it's really kind of pointless that I attend any given gathering. I doubt anyone would have noticed my nonattendance; my absence would have been inconsequential. I don't dislike my family. I have no real problems with them at all. But getting together is really no big deal to me. Most, I'm sure, saw this party as a great gathering of friends and family. I saw it as more of a hassle, more of a nuisance, and it gave me a headache. It was not entertaining to me in the least (and don't get me started on the music). During a brief exchange on my elusive behavior, the notion was raised that no one in the world will look out for you except family. Well, you know what, I don't expect anyone to look out for me. This includes family. Life will go on, with or without me. And as long as I'm on the topic of contact, I submit the following question. What's with the hugging? So I haven't seen you in years. Big deal. Don't touch me, dammit!
I have largely attempted--and succeeded--in my life to disappear. I have no friends; I have no social life. This is not of any concern to me. I'm very introverted, much preferring to kick around in my own head as opposed to "going out." I'm happiest holed up in my apartment, so leave me alone. Here I don't have to worry about saying the wrong thing and pissing somebody off, insulting somebody, or hurting somebody's feelings (oh horror of horrors!). During the party, shortly after the title interrogation by my older cousin, another of my cousins (the one the same age as me and the main instigator of the entire event) walked through the living room and encouraged me to come outside saying, "I didn't invite you here to be a party pooper." I responded, somewhat flippantly, with, "Yeah, well, you know I have no social life." She responded with, "Here's your chance to have one." I thought to myself at that point, "That's fine, but I don't want one." I followed her out of the house to get some food and pretend once again that I was enjoying myself. Shortly after dinner one of my (our) high school classmates stopped by. This added to a whole other set of issues in my head, and I won't go into that here, but it is something that often troubles me. It was nice to see her [this classmate] again, but we haven't seen each other for the eight years since graduating, so once more the awkwardness factor was high.
I'm very anxious about most everything, and I become even more so in social situations. Therefore, I avoid these situations as much as possible. I get especially anxious when I am out of my protective shell or not behind my comforting wall. The same goes for those rare occasions when I let someone in. Those unusual times when I do actually go to something, I usually get very nervous and even nauseated. I have the feeling that, in speaking about banal trivialities to people I either don't know or haven't seen or even talked to in years, everything coming out of my mouth is stupid (which, really, by the very definition--albeit stretched definition--of trivialities, it is). I also feel that I am wasting everyone's time with such mindless drivel, both my own and the person's to whom I am speaking. I dislike being bored for six or seven hours; I dislike being more anxious than usual; I dislike my forced-upon-me dishonesty; I dislike "chatting." So the next time someone asks me, "Do you want to go outside?" I believe I will respond with a simple and emphatic, "No."
Originally written:
June 7-8, 2003
Put online:
July 6, 2003
Discussion:
N/A
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