The Introvert

unsociability5

Today is party day.  My wife invited a lot of people — family and friends.  I know what to expect, I went through this circus many times.  We will greet each other, sit, talk, drink, laugh, eat and then climax:  happy whatever!

The talk usually starts with a “how are you,” then revolves around whichever topic is mentioned.  The fun things we did are brought up, the interesting things we saw are emphasized.  Then anything goes:  hearsay, rumors, news from TV or from other members of the family or of famous people.  Who’s good, who’s bad.  Anything that pops up can become the subject of discussion.  Opinions are expressed.  Jokes are inserted.

Laughing is important to keep the mood happy.  When speaking, a touch of exaggeration is necessary to keep the listeners entertained.  Sometimes there is originality but most of the time opinions are second-hand ideas, the repeating of things heard elsewhere.  Finally a clever “expert” will make a concluding remark and the subject will change.

Fortunately, there is respect in our group.  No fighting.  There is a small chance of an argument between the mother-in-law and her daughter, but nothing serious.  Three languages are in use:  French, Portuguese and English.  It can get confusing because some of us understand and speak only one or two of those languages.  No one bothers translating.  You pick up what you can.  The discussions rarely amount to anything anyway, except maybe laughter.

I think most of the participants just enjoy the feeling of togetherness.  It doesn’t really matter what is said.  Compliments are always welcome.  Funny things are remembered.  Polite smiles are expected, fake ones for photos.

The bulk of the herd should arrive around 5 p.m. and leave at 9.  We will be crammed on the main floor of our medium-sized house.  I will have to endure a minimum of four hours of movement, noise and interaction requests.  I don’t know how to prepare for it except to write and express my apprehension of this upcoming inescapable situation.  I usually fare pretty well, though.  I take the role of the bartender, mixing drinks and serving the thirsty.

I’m more of a listener, and once in a while I will throw a sarcastic comment that will get a few of them rolling and the others frowning.  Two or three such interruptions is usually the most I can afford in one sitting.  I usually drink in order to help my mind relax, but I want to try not drinking at all this time.

I feel alienated in a crowd and never know where I fit in.  I try not to stay too long in the same spot.  I walk around, pretending I’m going somewhere, trying to stay cool.  It’s hard to engage in any sort of intelligent conversation because of the chaos and noise.  Everyone knows that I’m disabled, that I don’t go out much and that I’m a bit depressed, so they don’t bother asking me what I’ve been doing lately because it’s kind of useless.

My mother-in-law usually asks me “how are you,” I reply “fine” and that’s the end of our conversation.  What else can I say?  The truth is:  “I’m sad because your daughter ruined me financially,” but that would be a bad thing to say.  And the purpose of life is to be fucking good, right?  Or at least appear to be…

The clock is ticking.  I want this day to be over quickly.  I don’t get what others enjoy in these gatherings.  I understand though, because I once experienced the warmth of being with a group of friends in the past.  I’m not sure why I changed, though.  Maybe it’s just part of growing up.  Or maybe I lost my friends and I don’t know how to make new ones.  It’s a mystery.

I’m an introvert, I know this much, and that’s a good enough explanation, I guess…

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Are You Bored?

bored

If you are not bored, then don’t read this post because it contains only boring thoughts from a bored person.

What could I do that is worthwhile, fun and useful, on this rainy day?

Don’t bother suggesting anything that requires movement, because I can’t move.

I’m disabled.

Never told you about my disability, did I?

*sigh*

Ok, I’m going to tell you:

One day, I lost something.  One day I had it, and the next day it was gone.  Things have never been the same since that day.  It happened in 1999.  On the 10th of June.  That day, I lost my balance.  I don’t even know what caused it.

Most people don’t even realize that they have balance.  But when you lose it, holy shit…

Without balance, you can’t walk.  I had to re-learn how to walk.  But the worse thing was what followed:  depression.  I mention depression in many of my blogposts but not what caused it.

This disequilibrium makes me feel a little drunk most of the time.  So if you ever wondered why my posts were unbalanced, now you know.  My balance system is broken and it can’t be fixed.  You want the technical details?  Boring!  But this is a boring post so I’m going to tell you.

The sense of balance is in your inner ear.  Ever heard of equilibrioception?  Me neither.  We all think we have only five senses, but we have more.  The sense of balance is one of them and it is definitively being taken for granted.

When the sense of balance breaks down, it causes dizziness, disorientation and nausea.  Motion sickness if you will.  It sucks.  I said earlier that I couldn’t move but it’s not true.  I can move as much as I want, but it makes me feel sick.  The more I move, the worse it gets.  I feel like I’m going to vomit.  Loud sound also affects it for some reason.  When there is too much noise, I feel like barfing.

I learned to live with it.  I had no choice.  I can walk but running is out of the question, unless I want to get hurt.  I feel best when I don’t move and all is quiet.  Boring, isn’t it?  This is my life.  I write because I don’t move much, so I think and dream a lot.  I don’t like watching TV so I have to use my imagination to find satisfactory entertainment.  What else can I do?  Oh, I read also, but I prefer to daydream and write creatively.

So this is my disability.

What is yours?

Dead Romance

Skull Lovers

Why am I still here?

I’m here to piss you off, to remind you that you’re not who you think you are.

All this niceness you dress yourself with, all these friends you surround yourself with, all this makeup and bright white teeth, none of it is you.

You’re a mask, a walking Christmas tree with ornaments and colored lights flashing.  Yeah, you’re a fucking pine tree, all green and greedy, covered with needles.  Without the ornaments you’re just a pile of pricks.

I’m here to remind you who you really are.  I’m your true reflection, the one you don’t want to look into.  I’m the magic mirror here to tell you how ugly your beautiful exterior is.

I’m sorry I exist.  Sorry I was put into your life.  Sorry I never say how wonderful you are and how much I admire you.  Your fake friends can do that.  I don’t do this shit.  Sorry.

You can hate me.  I allow you to abhor me.  Because I don’t flatter you like the others do.  I’m a thorn in your life, ain’t I?  You wish I would leave but I won’t.  You dragged me into your life, remember.  You lured me in like a fish.  Now you’re stuck with me.

I know why I’m here.  I’m here to piss you off because you pissed me off first.  I’m your karma.  I’m the effect of your cause, the harvest that you sowed.  The rotten fruit of your labor.

Admire.

 

Whatever

I don’t know what to write.  But I want to write because I’m bored.  I’m almost always bored, except when I write.  It’s a sure way out of boredom.  It works every time.  As long as I write.  Doesn’t really matter WHAT I write.  Nonsense is good enough.  It’s just sad for whoever is reading.  Expecting some well thought out blogpost.  This is not one of them.  It’s completely spontaneous.  Going nowhere.  I’m full of everything and nothing.  Don’t know what’s going to come out next.  Change paragraph.

This is a new paragraph.  My mother-in-law is coming.  My sister-in-law too, with her new baby.  I’m drinking wine.  Well not really, my glass is empty.  Refill, please!  I never ask my wife to serve me.  Never.  Never.  I never ask for anything for that matter, from anyone.  When I want something, I get it myself.  I have this saying:  “If you want to be well-served, then serve yourself.  There is no better service.”

We went to a wedding yesterday.  Afterwards, when we got home, my wife said that I was not antisocial.  I keep saying how antisocial I am, but when I find myself in a group, I am social.  Then why do I think that I am not social?  She said I was more sociable than she was yesterday.  It’s true, I was.  I have to figure out this mystery.

I guess it’s because I don’t get a kick out of it.  Social people get energized, excited and happy when they socialize.  I don’t.  It leaves me kind of blank.  It does nothing for me.  I can make people laugh or not laugh and it’s just the same to me.  My self-worth is not based on how other people perceive me.

So what is my self-worth based on?

A belief.

Wedding Alert!

Wedding

Where to run, where to hide?
I’ve been invited to a wedding!
A violent assault on the antisocial guy.

My wife knows I don’t like social gatherings, especially weddings, but her best friend is getting married this afternoon.  She said to me with the sad puppy eyes:  “I can’t go there alone, will you come with me?”  I said yes.  That was two months ago.

Now the day I have been dreading has arrived.  There is no turning back.  I have to go.

At least it’s not family.  I know the bride but that’s it.  Never met her fiancé.  None of the guests know me.  I feel better among strangers than I do among family.  No one will talk to me.  Smiles and friendly handshakes, I can do that.  My acting skills are rusted, but when the situation calls for it, I can summon them back to life.  I think… we’ll see.  Hope it doesn’t suck the life out of me.

Sit in church.  *yawn*
Watch the show.  (Hope she trips)
Stand, sit, stand, sit, kneel.  (WTF?)
Clap when they kiss.  (She’s not a virgin)
Congratulate them.  (In two years you’ll be separated)

Then eat, drink and dance.  That’s how people celebrate.  What are they celebrating exactly?  Who cares.   We have food, alcohol and music.  Let’s do what they do.  Stuff your face, get drunk and move your body.  Pretend to be happy.  Woopy!