Talking

Being a socially adept human being seems so easy for some. The kind of inviduals that can initiate conversations on a whim, with confidence and an assured acuity. But can also effortlessly interpose themselves into any discussion, with erudite coherency, even if they have only just met someone. Every statement they make is witty, informative and reviting. They seem to have this insatiable, gravitational orbit that just naturally attracts other like minded extroverts. This is a gregarious nature that I have both failed to inherit or develop. Instead blending into the background like a piece of plain furniture. Not even a well trained SAS operative could be taught the inherent camouflaging skills I’ve adapted over the years. What doesn’t help is the way in which I engage, or indeed don’t engage with people.

I have been known to be very candid. Conveying my opinions with a blunt and unfiltered approach, that many mistake for being churlish or even rude. Many people that don’t know me are taken aback by my glib remarks and solemn demeanor. It doesn’t help that my natural expression is that of a stern grimace. Like someone completely dead inside. It isn’t my intention to be so overtly rude in the face of casual conversations, but merely an instinctive response to some of the abitrary discourse that I am forced to engage with. Of course my candid and unfiltered approach in expressing my opinions, coupled with one of my most distinguishing characteristics in sarcasm, is not an endearing quality for many aspiring ranconteurs. But this really only extends to direct conversations that some unfortunate inviduals have stumbled into, because joining a discussion or even maintaining a conversation for any extended period of time is not a skill I have been blessed with.

Life has not furnished me with the gift of the gab. My acerbic tone and outspoken nature aside, I am often socially crippled by my own neurosis. Now if you talk to me about movies or gaming, then we can engage in an informative discussion about these very diverse and extensive subjects without hesitation. But for the most part I find it debilitating to converse with someone for any moderate amount of time, without that feeling of exasperation becoming evident from my vacant, disinterested expression. In groups where conversations seem to have this kind of synchronised rhythm to them, I find I’m even less inclined to participate. Preferring to observe and absorb the information stated, rather than engage. Overall though, much of the interactions I have feel like badly drafted scripts, with all of my dialogue removed. Forcing me to improvise responses like an alien that hasn’t studied human behaviour! It’s like I’ve been manufactured with faulty parts, that can’t simply be replaced.

I’m just glad that my daughter hasn’t inherited her father’s blatant social defects. She is affable, inquisitive and assured in her speech. Much like her mother. Which again makes me question whether she is in fact mentally comprimised for being with me?

When it comes to socialising I’m not exactly the most effusive person to converse with. Often I’m perceived as somewhat of a miser, aloof to a point that I’d purposely seek out solitary reprieve from people. Being socially awkward is a temperament that I’ve adapted over the years to avoid people. Naturally occurring at a young age, shunning contact with other humans was a far less hedonistic tendency when I was a kid. Interacting with other children is easy when you’re not concerned with offending. You have no concept of provocation. There’s no berometer for upsetting or annoying another person because it can all be dismissed as juvenile ignorance. You could get away with saying stupid, vaguely incentive things, because you were young and didn’t know better. I’ve always been earnest in the way I express an opinion, promoting an open and honest approach to any conversation. Which as you can imagine isn’t always received warmly. I don’t intentionally offend, it just seems to happen. So my continued abstinence from verbal communication is further compounded by the genuine fear that I will inadvertently upset someone.

Yet ironically I seem to surround myself with people that talk incessantly, loudly, without really saying anything, as if they’re espousing some great machiavellian soliloquy or a dramatic stage monologue. In reality it’s just friends/colleagues engaging in normal, sociable conversations. With a rapacious wit, communicating information as well as confidence that people respond to. It’s alluring, something that people are genuinely receptive to. The only thing I really have to offer a conversation is bitter, openly saccharine deduction of our callous, cynical world or watching entire conversations play out without contributing a syllable. So you then gain a reputation as an introverted shrew people will actively avoid talking to, other than obligated courtesies and brief eye contact.

This reclusive disposition filters into my online identity too. Though I’m an active user of Twitter, the social aspect of it is a peripheral interference, as I primarily use it to keep myself appraised of the worlds witless stupidity. When online gaming, even those that promote and vigorously encourage a shared, gregarious community I resist, preferring to engage in public matches or favouring my own solitary participation. The very idea of having to prattle with some anonymous player I’ve never met to discuss strategies and logistics is even less appealing than talking to someone directly. It’s a fairly egregious social faux pa not to want to engage with others, even in an online capacity where social interaction is kind of implied?!

Now I don’t know if I refrain from conversations simply because I’m afraid of upsetting someone with an opinion, because of an instinctive rataliation to people or perhaps something more psychological. All I know is that all too often I isolate myself to feel comfortable. Safe. That’s not healthy.

I wish things were different, that I had the confidence to engage in a fluent conversation without being concerned about the implications of my words or feeling as though what I’m saying is tedious. This is something I’ve had to deal with for much of my life, that has exacerbated as I’ve matured. Each and every day is a struggle to act in a way that is deemed sociabably acceptable, without coming across as insincere or forced. When you have to grapple your own anxiety simply because you’re next to order something at a restaurant then you know you’ve got problems. This may seem small fry when compared to the thousand, perhaps even millions of people who believe suicide is a authentic remedy for depression. But to me this is a prolonged challenge I endure every time I come in contact with any human being.