The couch from the hit series “Friends”
If I have’t already talked about it, now’s as good of a time as ever. I suppose I am one of those who suffers from some degree of “social anxiety.” Since middle school, I have been aware, whether I chose to fully admit it to myself or not, that I am what is called an “awkward” person. Sometimes, I am able to accept it, perhaps even embrace the oddity, or at least live with it. After all, it’s not like I’m the only person in the world of this type, and it doesn’t mean that I’m total garbage… right?
But then there are times when this really bothers me. There are times that I must recall every instance that someone has ever called me awkward, and bewail my condition. Sure, there is a little bit of resentment towards the person (I know, I should probably forgive them), but I am really upset because I know that it’s true. “Awkward.” The word seems to pierce through my very being. It is a stigma, a disease, a sin, a handicap. I feel isolated, inferior, cast away by a society that apparently knows something that I don’t. I know I will never be one of THEM. All my life I will be attached to this label, to that word that I’ve grown to hate. My symptoms may soften with maturity, but with maturity, more will also be expected from me, so I’ll always be behind, and I’ll always be awkward.
This seems weird to me, irrational now. Because it is, and I am writing in a relatively rational state of mind.
Fortunately, today I wasn’t feeling too irrational about it. I just went into the world, and felt relatively normal. No too different from anyone else. It’s probably because I wasn’t over thinking everything so much. There are even days when I can talk and be sociable, maybe even a little funny (with people I know, of course). But I am convinced that even during those times there is something very perceptibly off beat about me.
Well, it is what it is. I just try and thank God for the good days. At least I have all my faculties, no diagnosable disease or disorders, and the use of all my limbs. Yes, that is a good thing. And I guess it’s possible that I’m exaggerating the problem in my head.
So am I a step closer to a totes #normal life? Probably not.
Well, what’d normal ever do for me anyway? Screw it