socii

[helenic]

I felt I acquitted myself fairly well at Rupa's party on Saturday. Having been thrust at Jasmine (who I had never spoken to before) by my flustered hostess, there was definitely an initial awkwardness at my failure to make conversation, but soon I found myself caught up in writing erotic fridge poetry with Rob and Danny, ate a couple of tomato and herb crisps (I'd only had 150 calories previously all day - not deliberately, just through circumstance) and had a few glasses of cheap white wine, all of which contrived to put me more at ease.

I'm still far from confident in my ability to converse in a group; I either realise suddenly how loud and self-involved I am being and how much I'm embarrassing the group, therefore withdrawing in shame and self-loathing to a silent corner of the room, or I mistrust my own ability so much I deliberately prevent myself from joining in the conversation. On Saturday, however, whether because of the wine or the friendliness of most of the people there, I found being sociable not only easy but enjoyable, and before long ended up with Jasmine, Danny and Rob having a long and aimless chat in Rupa's bedroom. The night unwound itself around couples, fights and make-up sex, love and tears - all punctuated by feather boas and stuffed llamas and Spanish porn and just the right amount of alcohol. I subsided at around 3am on Rupa's floor and drifted through wine-enhanced dreams while the party continued to rage downstairs.

Sunday was even more confidence-building - I managed a passable conversation with Rupa the next morning, despite my hangover and intense nervousness, and Danny even seemed to approve of my presence in the group downstairs - or perhaps it was just his openness and engaging habit of eye contact that deceived me. Walking with him, Rob and Spencer to the station, I intended to leave for home but (I'm still not sure whose idea it was that I join them) ended up going with them to Soho for frappucinos and a Chinese meal. I sat on the grass with them in Soho square while they discussed the failings of gay culture and fashion, and I embarrassed myself by eating so much it was remarked upon, perhaps to compensate for the day before. I can't remember what else we talked about - photography, perhaps, and tattoos and livejournal (a little) and other aimless, amiable things. "Today's been strange," someone remarked at one point, and I agreed - "especially since I only met you last night." But apparently the lack of awkwardness was mutual, and I let myself believe it, content for once to put my insecurities to one side.

Tonight I met my old "friends" from school at a barbecue, and while it was not as awful an affair as it could have been, I was painfully reminded how bad I was at social contact at school. Although I've improved since then I could see it in the way they looked at me when I spoke, in their low expectations of me - and despite my best efforts I was horrified to see myself slipping into that old role, saying all the wrong things, interrupting people with humourless, self-indulgent anecdotes, making unfunny jokes, offering too much information about myself. I still don't know the rules of conversation unless I'm with someone I know intimately, and I'm not sure if my lack of self-esteem stems from it, or whether it is the cause of my difficulties. Either way, coming back to Leicester where no-one is aware of my re-invented, likeable (I hope) Cambridge self is disheartening. And while I was genuinely pleased to see some of them, it's an experience I'm loathe to repeat.

Comments

[funnytimeofyear.livejournal.com]

despite the dramatic antics, immense amount of emotional instability, arguing, and relationship failings -- i generally enjoyed myself. i think situations such as meeting through erotic fridge magnet poetry is the best way to meet someone, without all the initial awkwardness of "uh oh, i am actually meeting someone." yesyes, fluff puppy sausage...

& i didn't mind your presence at all, it was all rather mellow and comfortable. the frappucinos, the observation of the gays, the awkward ordering of miniscule portions of chinese food.. i didn't feel phased at all by being in the company of a complete stranger. it was good to meet you.

(& no, my habit of making eye contact is no way related to powers of deception. .. but that habit isn't too much of a habit, is it? i mean, i'm not seriously winking at people and psyching people up without noticing, am i?)

you take care, yo.

[libellum.livejournal.com]

damn! I wrote a long and involved comment here but livejournal appears to have eaten it ...

shake your meat over mother's repulsive breast, yeah. I couldn't have done it without the wine and I certainly couldn't have down it if I'd realised how well you two knew each other - I supposed you were doing something similar to me else I wouldn't have dared to interrupt. I'm glad I did, though, and I'm glad I let myself be persuaded to / persuaded you to let me tag along on Sunday. Being the random party stranger in an established group of friends is invariably odd, fun and somewhat exciting, although I haven't done it since I was 15. If it wasn't for the hangover I wouldn't have had the confidence - as it was, we were all chilled enough for it not to matter. I thought all three of you were fantastic and people I'd like to see again.

As for your eye contact - I suppose it's a trait that always engages me. It's probably just the largeness and intensity of your eyes that makes a look from you seem more than just a casual glance. Or maybe your pupils were just dilated from sleep-deprivation; it was hard to tell. x

[maga-dogg.livejournal.com]

Mrf. I know what you mean about hating coming back to the old social groups, and how horrible it is to feel yourself sliding back into the miserable old roles. I've studiously avoided the few of my friends still in town for essentially this reason, but even being at home with parents is bad enough in this respect. Two of the things that have really become stronger since I went to Cam (not that they were ever in danger of being underdeveloped, of course) are my sense of personal identity and my social emphasis on very close communication and intimacy - neither of which my old friends are really able to reflect. Yeah, it's good to see them, but it's not very good to actually be around them.
It strikes me as odd that you don't feel comfortable socially in groups - possibly because I get a very selective and stylised view of you on your LJ, possibly because you often appear to be having a lot of wild fun extroverted times, possibly because you're one of those people (I'm similar) whose online personas comes across as a more idealised version of themselves than comes across socially.

[libellum.livejournal.com]

it's good to see them, but it's not very good to actually be around them.

ah - you put it perfectly.

I've always been socially awkward. As a child I was precocious, introspective and imaginative; I conversed impressively and easily with adults (I had to, I was the vicar's daughter) but could never be bothered with children my own age - the worlds in my head and in books were far more interesting. As a result I was bullied terribly until the age of about 15, at which point depression for other reasons took over, thus ensuring my almost complete social isolation apart from a single dependant relationship. I'm surprised I had any friends at school, however casual, considering what they had to put up with from me - I cringe at the things I used to say, imagining other people were interested. Going to cam was a steep learning curve for me, my first foray in befriending groups rather than an individual, and at about the same time I had started meeting people from the internet in earnest - my group of friends on livejournal was firmly established.

It goes without saying I find writing easier than talking. I even find phone conversations easier than talking to somebody face to face. It's a continual effort to keep myself in check, to not say too much or the wrong thing. My friends at uni I've learned by trial and error will tolerate my embarrassments, but in groups that are new or - worse - old, I don't have that confidence.

Part of me suspects sociability will always have to involve an element of pretense. My nature would tend towards introversion and independence if I didn't also get so horribly lonely. So I keep on trying, and sometimes the feelings of worthlessness I get from my failures are outweighed by the realisation I've actually managed to form an attachment to someone that's mutual. x

[ex-silentsig791.livejournal.com]

I'm using my old journal again, and have added you - /voiceover is now defunct.

- hope you're OK until you're with the boy again. x

[libellum.livejournal.com]

gotcha.

I'll be fine. It's not until late evening that it begins to get to me - the urge to pick up the phone is just overwhelming. I'm just dependant on phone conversations, I think. x

[ansia.livejournal.com]

im so sorry for being so crap in the morning. and the night of the party. too much alcohol first trapped me and then caught up with me. so glad you came though. xxxx.