Saturday, October 09, 2004

Meet me, Mr. Psychosis

Okay, so I looked up psychosis and it's pretty much right on the money. Tonight my roomies threw some kind of uber-happy latin shindig and every cell in my epidermis (at least) revolted at the idea. Am I not a party man? I like the night-life. I like to boogie. Or could it be that I am STUBBORN, STUBBORN, STUBBORN!? Hmmm. Food for thought, not to be eaten after midnight. (It gives me the bends just thinking about it.)

If, I may, however: I should justify as I do so well by saying that I honestly feel terrified by said social gatherings with large groups of people, music, and giggly good-times. Of course, I can't clinically verify that I suffer a social anxiety disorder, but even if I did I don't really believe that disorders, especially of the social variety, are anything more than mentally painting oneself into a corner and not being able to leave w/o a good therapist paid at exorbitant rates. So there goes my talent at justification.

Seriously, though, is there anyone else out there who identifies/empathizes/gives a darn? I'm almost certain at least a few people think it's pure idiocy to be frightened of fellow human beings, especially when they're friendly, but I can't help but feel my palms ooze and my brain rattle when I realize I've got to "hang out" in a large group.

Or maybe I'm feeling like Wednesday in Addam's Family Values, stranded at a camp of psychotically chipper white people and forced to endure Care Bears movies. Spewwww!

Ahem! Anyway, as you can tell I could go on forever, if it weren't for a combination of bile and Gatorade mix circling dangerously in my esophagus.

Until later, world!

5 comments:

  1. I can definitely identify with the not liking big groups thing... I like smaller groups better. I'm sure that has been evident.

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  2. Oh, well, I agree God has a sense of humor, but I don't believe that he laughs at any attitudes, behaviors, etc. that make His children collectively or individually miserable. So yeah, I've got some stuff to get over . . . :)

    And I've tried everything when it comes to gastrointestinal dysfunction. I think the cure for IBS is attitude adjustment, sprinkled with Pepto.

    Oh, and I actually graduated w/ a degree in Visual Arts, and a few minors. I'm currently trying to get into some grad film school ----er, anywhere they'll have me!

    But I appreciate your love of wackiness. I'm a nut, or a legume, I can't decide which; and I think that makes me lovable!

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  3. The rub is this: I want to be social. I'd like to be thought a warm, caring person. One does become caring lurking menacingly in their room while one's roommates carry on with a party. I didn't even want to crack the door! When a friend popped her head in, I still remained seated, just out of a stubborn refusal to attempt to enjoy myself. But noooooooooo . . . another breed of gremlins was already running through a series of worse-case scenarios wherein I would be humiliated, sound like a complete ignoramus, or otherwise generally make women loathe me more than they already do.

    So again I linger . . .

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  4. Wow, seven comments! You're so popular.

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  5. Ah, but you'll note that at least a few of them are mine.
    And to Sabi: Yahoo! Woot! Wot-wot! and Yippee-ki-ay!
    Also, I'm aloof because I'm still getting over my shyness I knew as a young man. The thing about a party: I feel like I can do better things w/ my time than to stand around, or pretend as if I have the coordination to "groove." I've got rhythm in phat daddy truckloads, but I never could master the "cuban action" my social dance instructor hoped to teach us. So, in "long," I find the party scene, especially as it exists amidst Mormon culture . . . well, uninspiring. Most likely I've seen too many movies. Scratch that, and don't tell a soul. I want my movie obsession to remain a secret.

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