In Which I Have Posting Anxiety

[snurri]

Up until about 3rd grade I'm pretty sure I was incapable of being embarrassed. It's not that I was shameless, except in the literal sense; I didn't really have much concept of shame or its causes. I understood it as something connected to misbehavior, of course--I came from a Catholic family and went to Catholic school until 4th grade. There's nothing like a Catholic parent to make you feel like poor table manners will land you in hell.

The specifics of that first episode are uninteresting, but they were related to school, and this led to an association that lingers to this day; in my head, being mistaken was something to be ashamed of and to hide. It became very important to know all the answers, or at least more of them than everyone else. I don't know that I enjoyed learning back then. Mostly it was a way of controlling my environment just a little bit, of staving off that shame and embarrassment. When other kids flubbed answers in class, I cringed for the mortification they must feel. When it was clear that most of them didn't, I was bewildered. I was further bewildered when I tried to map my right answer/wrong answer thesis onto non-classroom time. On the playground or in the lunchroom, there didn't seem to be any right answers, or at least, there were exponentially more wrong ones. I got very tired of being wrong all the time. Eventually, I scaled back my interaction with most of the other kids to the bare minimum. It didn't help. Unless you're invisible there'll always be someone to call you out and tease you for being quiet and minding your business. I always reacted to it badly, and for that I got teased and called names.

By junior high I was an insomniac. I would lie in bed at night reviewing all the social missteps I'd committed that day, and construct scenarios for more potential embarrassments on the day following. As neurotic as I am now, the thirteen-year-old me was a time bomb.

This one of my theories as to how I became shy.

It's probably wrong. Like so many things, the real story is probably not what happened, but how I reacted to it. But until just a few years ago, I burned a lot of energy on that kind of self-analysis, because I believed there was something deeply wrong with me.

Clearly I was and am an introvert; groups of people, even people I love, tire me out. Put me in a room with one person I'm comfortable with and I'm perfectly content to talk deeply for hours, but people I don't know at all can be daunting to the point of paralysis. Women with whom I feel a certain level of romantic awkwardness can cause me to mumble, giggle nervously, and flee, not always in that order. (Wikipedia has an entry for something called Love-shyness, which is intriguing, depressing and suspect in equal measure. My own case isn't so severe as those described there, but some of it resonates.)

I deal with some social situations by never going near them. I avoid parties where I'm only going to know a couple of people. Invited out by people I don't know well, I make excuses. I protect myself by not stepping into situations where I'm going to feel out of control. I fear that all of this results in my seeming, at least at times, either mentally ill or snobbish or both.

All of which is problematic, but my believing it was something that needed fixing was even more so. I'd force myself into parties and other situations, visualizing a more relaxed, more confident Dave. What usually manifested was a sloppy drunk Dave. Instead of the witty and entertaining self I'd hope to conjure, I got a spectacular goof who sometimes didn't remember all of his shenanigans the next day. Now I can see this as an attempt at seizing control of otherwise overwhelming social situations. As a corollary, I also have a history of acting over-the-top weird while completely sober; while this might seem counter-intuitive for a shy person, in fact it's a quick and dirty way of setting the terms of your interactions, because everyone is forced to react to you, to give up a certain amount of space. When you're the most annoying person in the room (and even if you manage to be the most entertaining) it's unlikely that anyone's going to make a big effort to burst that intimacy bubble.

I confess that I still catch myself doing those things from time to time. Less so, though, because of something so simple it's banal. A few years ago I took the Myers-Briggs personality test online, and found myself classified as INFP. (I get that same result every time I take the test.) The "I" stands for Introverted, and in reading the description of the classification I not only recognized myself, I saw myself described independent of value judgments. Introverted and Shy were, in my mind, equivalent to Dork and Spaz, two of the many words I'd come to hate having attached to myself. Extroverted wasn't just the desirable state, it was the default state. But somehow, seeing that I was classifiable gave me permission to exist as I was. I'm not speaking to the scientific validity or usefulness of the test; I don't know a thing about that. Again, I'm talking about my reactions. In this case, my reaction was relief, and the feeling that the burden of fixing myself had fallen away. It was OK for me not to go to parties if I didn't feel like it. It was OK for me to spend the evening talking to my friends rather than stumbling over awkward introductions to people I was never going to see again.

Not that I'm always convinced there isn't something just wrong with me, even still. I've taken Paxil, partly for panic attacks but also for social anxiety and depression. It helped with all of those things, and sometimes I wonder if I should be on something like that all the time. (It's not an option right now, just to forestall those suggestions.) Maybe my shyness is more severe than some; maybe it's not.

The shitty paradox of being shy is that it doesn't mean I don't need social interaction. It's just that I need it in a different way, and it can be difficult to ask for it, or explain it. Especially to extroverts. Y'all outnumber us by quite a bit, and sometimes you can be a bit impatient with us. It's not easy for me to explain myself to someone who gets a charge out of going out and meet new people, to say that few prospects are more daunting to me. I have plenty of friends who are extroverts, and I love them dearly. Some of them get this stuff, or at least some of it, but I don't think it comes easily. And then some extroverts (not my friends) get it all too well. They treat shy people as prey; they give them the attention they need but cannot ask for, and then take advantage of them in various ways. I suspect that most shy folks have found themselves in this sort of situation at least once--a new friend or romantic partner, with all the qualities that you feel that you yourself lack, and yet who recognizes your specialness. At least until they get what they want from you, and leave you feeling foolish and worthless because you didn't see it coming. It's a hard lesson that only reinforces the introvert's tendency to withdraw and avoid.

It's difficult, too, to say something to an extrovert like "I'm lonely," because, aside from the vulnerability of a statement like that, it's something that invites prescription. "You should go out more!" "Call my friend who lives near you!" Those suggestions may be well-meant, but they come across as frustration, as suggestions that the person is lonely because they're doing something wrong. Sometimes, granted, the problem is in the phrasing of it. But sometimes I wish I could say something like that without feeling like I'm going to be perceived as whining. "I've been feeling a little bit lonely, but I want to make it clear that I am not suggesting that my loneliness is your problem, or something for which I am seeking a plan of attack. I'm simply stating this fact. You may go about your business."

Honestly, though, the vast majority of the time I do not envy extroverts. That way of interacting with people wears me out just thinking about it; I'm simply not wired for it, and if I was I'd be a different person. I feel like, too, spending time with myself is one really important way of giving myself headspace to write and create. I'm usually too tired and jumbled up after lots of socializing to be very productive.

There's something related to that, too, which seems odd to me: I'm not usually shy about my writing. I'm pretty comfortable giving readings, for instance, or talking to people about it. I'm guessing that this is because I've already set the terms for interaction, in a way, by putting the words together. Maybe this is similar to acting like a goofball in a crowded room, and I'm unconsciously using words to create distance; or maybe it's the opposite, that in the back of my mind I feel that fiction creates familiarity. I do still consider sharing my stories to be a somewhat intimate act, although clearly the hope is that many more folks than I actually know will read it. But of course writing, too, is tied up in issues of control for me; stories are the one part of my life where I have total control. And yet, unlike that 9-year-old me, I don't really want to know all the answers about my stories. I'm more interested in asking questions, nowadays.

I'm still dealing with all of this, but most of the time my life is good. I love my friends, and WisCon, the most social weekend of my year, is also my favorite. I have occasional exclamation points of socialization, and I spend a lot of the rest of my time alone, which is good. (I'm not saying there isn't space for someone else in at least some of that alone time, but the need isn't desperate.) I'm bad at letting people know when I need them, but I'm working on it.

Oh, and I no longer think that poor table manners will land me in hell.

But it's funny--even posting this makes me feel awkward. Note my retreat into formal language for most of this post. I'm not trying to speak for other shy people, or even to claim that I understand my own shyness. This is not a lament or a cry for help. But it's something that's been on my mind a lot lately, about being an introvert in an extroverted world, and how good I was (and still am) at echoing the negativity about introversion I got from that world, and even generating my own. I'd like to quit doing that.

I'd be curious to hear from other shy folks (and everyone else), whether any of this maps onto your own experiences, or not.

Comments

[the-flea-king.livejournal.com]

I can't decide if I am shy or not. I am not super-extroverted, but I am not as bad off as you sound like you can be at times. I have tremendous social anxiety around people I like, and often find it hard to talk to them if I don't know them. Once I know them, I become much more relaxed. Still, that barrier of anxiety makes it really hard for me to meet new people unless I can come up with a rock-solid reason to talk to them.

I guess I don't have much to say to you other than, you have my sympathies, and if we were anywhere near one another, I would hang out with you.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Well, I wasn't looking for sympathy; but I appreciate the sentiment. One of these days we will hang, at a con or somewhere . . .

[used_songs]

I'm extremely shy with people I don't know well and in large groups. What I usually do is avoid situations like that when I can. I know exactly what you mean about school and having to be right. Even today, I plot out vast scenarios ahead of time when I know I'm going into an unfamiliar social setting. I plan out what I will say and do for any number of variables. That way I feel like I have some control in the situation. I think that's why I'm actually pretty confident when it comes to giving presentations and teaching - I'm in control of the situation, so I'm okay.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Yes. Exactly, to all of that; the avoidance, the needing to be prepared, the control.

I wonder if extroversion doesn't also involve strategies of control, just ones that I don't understand very well.

[stephanieburgis.livejournal.com]

Thanks for posting this. I recognized so much as I read it - shyness has been a major problem for me since I was a kid, and one of the achievements I've been most proud of as an adult is the sheer ability to speak voluntarily to strangers at all, which I couldn't manage as a teenager, even to the extent of phoning up for a pizza to be delivered. I love hanging out with friends in small groups, I love talking one on one, and I hate being alone for too much of my life...but I hate, hate, hate large parties and too-large groups of people, which has created problems for me at various points in my life. In both undergrad and grad school (different universities, different social groups), I was warned by acquaintances that other people in my department perceived me as being unfriendly and stand-offish specifically because I didn't go to the big drinking parties that went on every week (and which made me desperately uncomfortable and miserable whenever I did try to attend); even at Clarion (where I did get along with absolutely everybody and made some really wonderful friendships), I had someone take me aside to say very firmly that I really needed to spend more time with the whole group at once, or else people would think badly of me and asssume I didn't want to be a good group member.

Anyway, not posting to vent too much...just to say, it meant a lot for me to read this entry, and I'm so glad that you wrote it.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Oh, man, I used to have HUGE phone anxiety. I'd forgotten that.

Those kind of "warnings" -- probably they were meant as friendly advice, I guess -- are exactly what I mean about some extroverts not getting it. That's just destructive talk.

Thanks for the kind words, and I'm glad the entry meant something to you.

[rsheslin.livejournal.com]

Me, I'm pretty much a classic ENFP (although the E and I seem more interchangeable nowadays.) My issues with Being Wrong stemmed from having parents who, although well-meaning, were young and inexperienced, and because I was so intuitive, they assumed that I knew things far beyond my actual understanding.

Therefore, I learned that I was Supposed To Know Everything, and if I didn't know it, bluffing my way through was far preferable to admitting that I didn't know or, heaven forbid, asking someone else. Of course, this then lead to the constant fear that I would be Found Out -- over all, it was very exhausting.

I think the reason that I'm less E than I used to be is because I've become more attuned to other people as human beings, rather than audience (which I did to a certain extent in my teens and 20s). I've also become embarrassed at how my past need to Intuit and Assume led to my inadvertently running roughshod over others, and I'm far more sensitive to how my actions affect other people now. My current leaning towards introversion is a fear of putting my foot in it and hurting other people; I'd rather stay in my shell and be lonely and disconnected than cause pain to someone else.


(I'm waiting for Haddayr, a self-professed Extroverted Energy Vampire, to chime in....)

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Ah. See, my version of Supposed to Know Everything was Pretending to Know Everything, because not knowing was bad. I almost never asked questions.

I can totally relate to not wanting to inadvertently hurt others, too. Sometimes I can get so anxious about social situations that I'm rude without thinking.

[kameron-hurley.livejournal.com]

High school theater helped me out a lot. I do still often sit in bed and run through scenerios and beat myself up about social situations - how could I have been better, wittier, more interesting? I feel like I come across as stoic and boring; most of that is just me being terrified. And I still do a lot of self-hate talk after hours, particularly after big social occasions.

What theater did for me, though, is allow me to turn "on" somebody else (no, not in a wackjob sense; it's more like pulling on a cloak of protection) whenever I'm doing something like panels, or speaking in front of people. I really have to rev myself up for the occasion, and prepare for it, but I can pull it off pretty well when I'm prepared. And I do that by sort of watching myself from the outside; OK, now I am giving a panel! I am this witty, knowledgable person! Yaya me! And then I natter on and laugh loudly and then it's over and I'm so.fucking.exhausted.

It's also really good for me to hear about somebody else who honestly finds people - even people they like very much - physically exhausting. Sometimes it's all just too much for me. People tend to take energy away from me; I don't generally get any. Some of my best friends are big talkers, and I realize I tend to be drawn to talkers because they're more likely to fill the silence, and I can just listen, and I don't have to try and "be witty" or "on" all the time; I just listen, and it doesn't exhaust me as much.

I'm actually a lot worse as far as awkward socialness goes with aquaintences. With strangers, I can use the cloak thing, "Now I'm the Kameron who writes Brutal Women Fiction! I will crush you!" and with close friends, I can just be wacky and myself. It's those sort of in-between colleague people (like ya'll at the cons) that give me trouble. Cause I certainly *know* you all, and keep up with what you post, and sort of say hello socially, but there's no real shared intimacy or established boundaries or anything, and I think I do really badly in situations where I'm unsure of where I stand with people. It's this really awkward adrift sort of place.

It's easy to be "the writer," or "the feminist" or "my friend Kameron who I've known since we were 14,"or "panelist talking about epic fantasy" but it's a lot harder to act and react in a sort of undefined social script. I think that what really helps my social awkwardness is knowing *exactly* where I stand with people. It's like it gives me some idea of where all those nebulous boudaries are, and boundaries make me feel safe, however false a feelin that is.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

That's interesting, about the theater experience. I've never done drama, but I do sometimes feel like I have multiple faces, like "Sounds Smart Dave" and "Is Can Be Entertainer Now Dave." Both of which are, as you say, somewhat tiring to wear.

I do honestly find people exhausting. WisCon is my favorite thing ever, but afterwards I usually don't talk to anyone for a week or so, I am so drained.

The online vs. real-life question is a good one, too. I can have a correspondence going on with someone over email, then avoid them in person because I get so nervous about what to say.

Basically, yeah to everything you said.

[tim-pratt.livejournal.com]

Absolutely. Put me in a small group of close friends and I'm happy as can be, and even talk a lot. Put me in a social situation with strangers and I clam up and get antsy. Parties, though sometimes satisfying, are very emotionally draining to me, and I always need some alone time afterward (or time with my wife, who is "inside the fence," as it were, and doesn't trigger my need to be alone at all). I've always been that way. There are some situations where I consciously act against my natural inclinations, notably at Clarion and other writing workshops, where I make a point of putting myself forward and talking to people. That's led to some rewarding friendships, but yeah, the effort makes me tired. My perfect weekend involves staying home with my wife or hanging out with a couple of close friends. Definitely not parties or big group outings. And at parties, yeah, I tend to drink to make social interaction a little more pleasurable.

That said, I don't feel any shame about being that way. I've mostly been pretty comfortable with being an introvert, even hiding away and reading at social gatherings, to the occasional chagrin of my family.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

They don't call it social lubricant for nothing :-)

I do the reading thing too! Sometimes I'll just pick up a magazine or something and ignore the rest of the party. I think that's partly being a compulsive reader, partly a reaction to too much stimulus.

I don't know where the shame comes from. I guess part of it came from friends who didn't understand, and part of it was me saying to myself, "You're never going to be popular/meet girls/be happy if you don't change." And then I couldn't. Thank god I'm over that.

[sarah-prineas.livejournal.com]

Thanks for sharing this, Dave.

Okay, so I'm not shy, but a raving extrovert, so it doesn't map my experience, or anything. But I'm married to an introvert--the panic attacks, the Paxil, the social awkwardness, the whole shy deal--so I know. What I know about shy people is that they take longer to reveal themselves to others--but that often the self, when revealed, is richer and deeper. My shy guy is quiet partly because he's taking things in and then thinking about them much more deeply and subtly than I, as an extrovert focused outward, can ever do (I love that about him). He gets information overload sometimes--he'll be talking to a colleague and focuses down on one interesting thing and starts thinking about it, loses the thread of the conversation, and goes into a panic attack. So he's developed strategies for dealing with these kinds of stressful interactions (like taking an hour to lie down at lunch every day, or not answering the phone during certain hours. And the Paxil helps a lot). For him, going to WisCon would be absolute hell (but then again, WisCon is not his people).

So I suppose that's me mapping indirectly.

And I totally get the "persona." My boss is an academic with this bluff, loud personality (I thought). He told me once he was shy, and I was like, "yeah, right." But he really is shy; he uses the pompous professor thing as both a persona and as a shield. There's a guy with a heart of gold behind it, but finding him is not easy. Took me about six months to figure it out.

Have you read Jed's blog? He's really good at knowing what his social limits are, and seems aware of his need to manage his social interactions so that he doesn't get too burned out.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Thanks for chiming in; I didn't mean to imply that I only wanted shy folks to comment.

I guess that's what shy folks like to think about ourselves, that we have really rich inner lives :-) The fear, I suppose, would be that those inner lives aren't as interesting to anyone else.

It sounds like your guy and I have some things in common. I have my panic attacks under control--I actually only had the one, a few years ago--but I do get very anxious at times. Which sucks.

I did think of Jed while I was writing this. He does seem to have a good handle on himself, but I think that he and I are different in that he tends to be more analytical and I tend to be more instinctual. I don't always pay close attention to my energy levels at, say, WisCon, because there are so many people there that I want to spend as much time as possible with. So I push myself a lot during that weekend; but I can't say I've regretted it, either, despite the exhaustion hangover.

[haddayr.livejournal.com]

Okay, dammit other extroverts are posting, so I will, too.

I love shy people and I HATE it when folks treat you all like you have to be fixed.

You don't need to be fixed; you need to be celebrated.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

I think you said that on Saturday, but thank you for saying it again.

[haddayr.livejournal.com]

Also, my extroversion often puts me in TOTAL control of the social situation around me. I think perhaps you and I are just using our different strengths to control things in different ways.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

I think that's probably so. As I was writing this post I kept thinking, "Everything is pointing back to control, here." But I don't think the difference is that extroverts want to feel OUT of control. I think it's just different strengths and strategies, as you say.

[froggie-spawn.livejournal.com]

It's funny how so many of us have these individual concerns about being shy, and yet we're all in the same boat, so to speak. I vote we have con buttons made up: "I'm too shy to start a conversation with you, and I bet you are too. Let's chat!" They could be neon, with flashing script...

*dreams*

[snurri.livejournal.com]

The Shy League!

[tanaise.livejournal.com]

Huh. I spent most of wiscon wishing I could interact with people as easily as you do, instead of glomming on to you and being forced into interacting with new people that way.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Ah, but I knew most of those people, at least a little bit. That's not so hard. And WisCon is a special case for me, 'cause I feel so at home there.

[buymeaclue.livejournal.com]

Interesting. I can say that for me, interacting with you got a lot simpler once I started accepting that you were just nuts. Er. I say that with affection, of course.

I would say that I'm not sure this:

>I suspect that most shy folks have found themselves in this sort of situation at least once--a new friend or romantic partner, with all the qualities that you feel that you yourself lack, and yet who recognizes your specialness. At least until they get what they want from you, and leave you feeling foolish and worthless because you didn't see it coming.

Is really particular to introverts. That's just--bad choice and/or luck in picking other people; it happens to all kinds of folks. (Though I'll agree that there's some chicken-and-egg.)

I am--not sure, anymore, whether I think of myself as shy or as an introvert. I definitely used to, up until a very few years ago. And there was an element of self-protection to it. If I was shy, that explained the lack of close friends, and the lack of boyfriend, and the lack of social ease, and so on and so forth. It meant that there wasn't something wrong with me, or rather, that the something-wrong-with-me was simple and straightforward and (I knew from books) not _wrong_ so much as different in a way that most people didn't get but that (I knew from books) the right people would eventually, inevitably, get.

So that was fine.

But I think, based on the last few years, that I was maybe not so much shy as really, really insecure. And as that got/gets shored up, the social stress started sliding away and I start finding myself in odd positions where, for example, I have to start carving out solitary time for reasons other than because I'm burned out on other people.

It's very strange.

I don't mean, by any of this, of course, that there's anything wrong with people genuinely shy and/or introverted. Just...I'm discovering that it's not as simple as I used to think it was. I'm not sure what to call myself anymore.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Nuts; yes. At least, inconsistent, indecisive and randomly incommunicative. That's fair :-)

I would say that I'm not sure this:

>I suspect that most shy folks have found themselves in this sort of situation at least once--a new friend or romantic partner, with all the qualities that you feel that you yourself lack, and yet who recognizes your specialness. At least until they get what they want from you, and leave you feeling foolish and worthless because you didn't see it coming.

Is really particular to introverts. That's just--bad choice and/or luck in picking other people; it happens to all kinds of folks. (Though I'll agree that there's some chicken-and-egg.)

True; but I think that being a shy person often means not getting enough social interaction, because you don't know how to go after it, and so you tend to be more susceptible to someone charming who offers it up unasked. You may question it less because of your need.

I think there's definitely an element of insecurity about shyness, and it's perhaps why I'm mostly over it when it comes to my work and to certain social groups; I'm not (very) insecure about my writing, or about the friends I've made in the Spec Fic community, and that sort of thing. But, I still definitely find people tiring, so I don't expect that I'll be getting over all of this.

[jamiam.livejournal.com]

Wow, Dave. Just... wow.

I'll type some more in a bit. But in the meantime: thanks for writing this.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Thanks for reading it :-)

[ombriel.livejournal.com]

I was agonizingly shy from elementary school through college. Then, in grad school, somehow through a combination of teaching undergrads and a brief bout of LARPing, I developed the ability to fake being confident/outgoing. Over time, the faking it part ceased to be fake. I stopped being shy in some circumstances, to the point now where new acquaintances are surprised when I describe myself that way.

Getting around the shyness was a very, very painful process, though. The night before the very first time I had to teach, I was physically ill. Now I vaguely look forward to being at the front of the class. Still, if you put me in a room where I’m new, but most everyone else knows each other, it’s still just as terrifying as it was years and years ago. If everyone is new to each other, I’m pretty comfortable.

Ah, introvertedness—-such an interesting internal dynamic.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

This is something I've heard before; someone who's forced, usually for professional reasons, to adopt an outgoing facade which eventually becomes second nature. An extrovert-exoskeleton, if you will. Fascinating.

[pnew8.livejournal.com]

Yes, I am introverted. Shy. Yes, it appeared my childhood, but it also, imho, comes from a hypersensitivity to social interactions. It doesn't take much to overwhelm me. I am constantly second guessing the people around me. I dislike being in groups of more than 2 or 3 people. I'm always afraid of saying something that will be taken the wrong way, even around my husband.

I've learned a few things to pretend it isn't so. Depending upon my mood I can interact with others well. I can do amazing things at times. And, because I like it when I do well in social situations, I continue to do things that I exceed my comfort level.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

I remember feeling bad at WisCon because I invited you to dinner and then we ended up with a huge group; I could tell you weren't that comfortable.

I know what you mean about fearing saying things that will be taken the wrong way. I've had to train myself out of the fear that saying just one stupid thing will make people want to stop being my friend. That's a tough one.

[lonfiction.livejournal.com]

Thanks for posting this, Dave. I used to have a real problem with the shyness too, but it's also kind of dissipated over the years. The "I" in my INTP is usually quite high. I used to have the phone sweats and the new people meeting issues and I can't really say they are all gone. I once was so overwhelmed by my fear of public speaking (and only in front of 5, but it was a qualification prove your knowledge board type of situation) that it changed the course of my career. It was the first time just being smart/knowing things wasn't enough to succeed, and because I couldn't present them--could hardly speak at all for the fearful chaos in my head--I failed at something important that I really wanted.

It devestated me, to tell you the truth, and the wound licking went on for some time. Eventually, though I felt like I needed to do something about it or I'd be stuck failing the rest of my life when it came down to social anxiety. I decided to apply the whole INTP strength of "systematizing knowledge" and began forcing myself to study and attack my social anxieties in an almost scientifically experimental fashion. Every year since then I've been kicking it up a notch and forcing myself to get comfortable and feel the control, and the funny thing is, now it's fun.

OR at least when I screw up (I was asked to be emcee at my boss's boss's retirement last month and somehow made the gaff of calling the preacher to the other podium for the benediction and then trying to breeze right along with the next part without letting him give it...heh) I know that it just ain't that bad and more often than not, I'm the worst critic of my social inabilities. The self-criticism and insecurity haven't stopped, but I can deal with them when they arise and overcome without the embarrassment sensation overwhelming me.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

That sounds really tough, Lon. I'm glad that you made it through and worked all of that out for yourself.

I did something a little bit similar, I think, when I forced myself to seek out chances to read my fiction in front of groups. I felt that it was important to do that in order to help my writing career, so I forced myself to do it and to get better at it. Now those situations don't feel so out of control as they once did, and I actually enjoy doing it.

Anyway; good for you, man.

[barbmg.livejournal.com]

Oh, and I meant to thank you for this wonderful post, Dave. In answer to the question of this mapping my experiences I would say: Yes, yes, and hell yes.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Thank you, Barb. I'm glad it struck home for you.

[mrissa.livejournal.com]

I am introverted but not shy: specifically, being around people wears me out, but I have no trouble striking up conversations with random folks etc. One of the unfortunate consequences of this is that people tend to assume that they've heard a great deal more about my life, as a percentage, than they actually have -- if I'm willing to natter on about my cousin's new baby, surely I've already exhausted all the topics closer to home? Actually not. Not at all.

We are used to socializing with other introverts around here, so if we do something like a baseball game together, we will not expect you to talk a lot unless you really feel like it. Also we are good at not taking "I didn't call" as "I hate your guts."

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Oh, at a baseball game I will probably have LOTS to talk about. Or at least yell. We will do that!

RE: "I didn't call" =/= "I hate your guts." Wow, that strikes right to the heart of a whole 'nother batch of anxieties. Phones, they are an exhausting apparatus. Even moreso than, say, barbells.

[ajjones.livejournal.com]

My shyness was always confused with snobbery. People think you're aloof when in actuality you're too petrified to speak.

Then I went to college and turned into a flaming extrovert for some reason. Must have been that Vermont greenbud.....

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Yes. I suspect that I've been taken for snobbish more than once.

Also: heh.

[matthewsrotundo.livejournal.com]

Gawd, there's so much of this I identify with, Dave: ashamed of mistakes, feeling other people's mortification (which makes American Idol especially painful for me to watch; I also found the movie Meet the Parents uncomfortable), brooding over social faux pas, rehearsing future interactions . . . been there, done that, still do it.

People don't believe me when I tell them I'm shy. They point out to me that I sing karaoke, for example. Or that I can be quite gregarious at parties. But they don't know how many years it took for me to sing karaoke for the first time. They've never seen the extreme lengths to which I'll go to avoid confrontation. They don't see how wearying social interaction can sometimes be for me, how there are times when I just don't feel like doing it.

I admit my introversion may not be immediately apparent. I think the things I do that are construed as "extroverted" can be explained this way: if it's something I feel I can do well, I'm OK doing it in public. This would explain the karaoke, for example. I'm not one of those people who gets drunk and has fun looking foolish on stage. No, I'll only sing a song I know very well, and that I'm certain is in my range. If there's any part of it that's too high--nope, I won't attempt it.

That's also why I don't have a problem with readings, though I've only done a handful.

I have no problems at parties where I know at least a few people. But if not, it's doubtful I would even enter the room.

Mind if I show this post to a friend of mine? She keeps telling me I'm not shy, and I have a hard time explaining it to her.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

I've done karaoke, but mostly just at WisCon. I don't mind looking a little bit foolish doing it :-) but mostly, yeah, I do it when I know I can do a pretty good job.

And feel free to link this around, Matt; I don't mind at all.

[mekkavandexter.livejournal.com]

i'm an INFJ. I feel I should use this to explain why at last year's (2006) wiscon when you said either hello, or hey or bye or see ya, I was completely unable to respond and practically ran away. I felt bad about that for a while, and did that itntroverted thing where we kick our own asses and beat ourself to death for our own failings as humans.

I will also use the INFJ thing to explain why I was possibly the dullest across-the-table dinner companion poor Haddayr has ever had.

I fool people, though. When I'm comfortable (in situations where the parameters are set and I know my role and have a fairly good idea of what will ensue), I can pretend to be extroverted. But it's highly unlikely I will tell you deep secrets or whatever.

but your post was me when i was little. running over tales of my own lameness in my own head, anxiety, freak outs. Weeping. Oh yes.

i still can not meet new people with any comfort. I find it almost impossible to just be myself if there's any chance that i need to impress the new-person. It's awesome. I don't go to parties. I say no, or don't respond. I can't go to bars (fortunately the bars here are terrible, even though I do like to dance and can do so without worrying about looking like an idiot, even though I most certainly look like an idiot. This is also why I go to goth/industrial nights where everyone is a freak).

anyway, i wanted to say I'm with you! and kind of apologize for being rude at Wiscon. I know you understand though, that I didn't mean to be.

(amber)

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Oh, I totally understand! And don't worry; I didn't take it as you being rude. Although I also understand the beating-up-on-yourself afterwards, too. I do it to myself all the time.

I know what you mean about being able to pretend to be extroverted. I suppose that's a trick we all have to learn.

I know what you mean, too, about finding it hard to be yourself if you feel the need to impress someone. That's so hard for me, even still.

[hecubot.livejournal.com]

I wouldn't have guessed at all. I just felt totally comfortable with you when you visited SF, and then also in Chicago both one-on-one and in the larger group.

Though I guess we weren't exactly strangers either.

It's weird - because I was that kind of shy when I was growing up. I couldn't even buy anything because I didn't know how to negotiate the experience of talking to a stranger and giving them money in exchange for goods and services. Gradually I built up experience getting french fries at McDonald's and extrapolated that to other monetary exchanges. Also with the phone fear which lasted longer.

And yet, now, I'm fairly extroverted if not gregarious. I enjoy meeting people and don't fret about fucking up. I want to draw them out and get to know them and enjoy the exchange. Also, I developed a social/party persona that was quick and fun. Eventually I discovered how to negotiate cocktail party chit chat and realize that *most* such social situations are not as fraught as I feared, but everybody's desperate for an interesting conversation (which I could provide).

[snurri.livejournal.com]

Well, exactly. We knew each other pretty well by that time, even though we hadn't met. The Internet makes this stuff all the more weirder, doesn't it?

Yeah, the phone fear is kind of crazy. I guess I think it has to do with not being able to use body language to get a point across, or to read the other person. But it was a terrifying thing for a long time, and I still don't really like the phone all that much.

I would totally peg you as an extrovert, for whatever that's worth.

Preach it, brother!

[scarypudding.livejournal.com]

I don't think I've ever heard somebody articulate that bit about the importance of knowing all the right answers before. It's so true. Every time I go into a situation that involves dealing with people, apart from the handful I know well enough to really feel comfortable with, I have to have a whole branching customer-service phone-call script in my head. It can be as simple as ordering a cup of coffee or as complicated as telling my whole life story up to age 30, but it has to be there.

And I drove myself double-extra-crazy for years trying to take the advice of the "You should get out more!" people. Once or twice a year I'd drag myself to something I didn't really want to go to, have no fun, and spend weeks or months afterwards blaming myself for not having any fun.

(And, er, just 'cause I'm talking about it in the past tense doesn't mean it doesn't still go on. If anything, living overseas makes it worse.)

Re: Preach it, brother!

[snurri.livejournal.com]

I'm not even sure I figured out that bit about knowing the answers until I finally sat down to write this post. But, yeah, most of my day-to-day social awkwardness comes with just trying to get through simple transactions. If I can just order a cup of tea, then great, but if the barista wants to make conversation, anything could happen, and happen badly.

For what it's worth, I think it's damn brave of you to have picked up and moved to a country where you knew literally no-one. I doubt I could do that.

[(Anonymous)]

(Even though you'll probably be able to guess who this is, I'm posting this anonymously because, well, I'm shy.)

I cried a little when I read this. It always feels a little comforting to see other people go through this too (and especially now, when I feel like I'm only surrounded by extroverted people).

I think my shyness came from a combination of being TFK (the fat kid) and just a lot of self-consciousness when I was younger. I've also developed a nervousness about holding conversations; while I've been told that I'm articulate and well-spoken, in my mind, I just run out of things to ask or say, sometimes even with my close friends. I used to have a photographic memory about these things, and I finally had to force myself to stop, so I wouldn't keep replaying the awkward moments again and again.

Years later, even after growing out of that phase, I just fall back into feeling that way around crowds of strangers at parties or potential romantic interests. College was the only time when I could go to parties and have a good time; it was easy, being surrounded by geeks like me. At the same time, I discovered I needed "safe people" by my side at the the parties at Clarion West and Wiscon and even then, I would get exhausted and have panic attacks.

When I moved across the country, I started suffering from depression and developed some mild agoraphobia (the crowd avoidance flavor) that came from my problems with shyness. I've made friends from work, but that's been it. It was especially heartbreaking when some of my really extroverted coworkers - the ones who knew that I've been feeling really lonely - kept making efforts to try and get me out of the house. Even after I explained my crowd-shyness, they honestly couldn't understand why I couldn't go to their big party or head up into the city with them and their friends, and took it personally.

So I just spend a lot of time home and alone, with the occasional visits to and from friends. Like you, I'm just not wired for extroversion, and I like need my alone time. Having someone in my space and having to be "turned on" for days or weeks is exhausting and unbearable. On the flip side of that, though, I'm discovering that I can't handle being alone all of the time, either. Feeling this lonely has curbed almost all of my creative output, but I've still channeled the "angst" into productive things baking. Trying to get treated for both problems has been incredibly stressful for countless reasons, and it's hard to get past the shyness without the support of friends that are physically here. Now I'm just trying to find my way back to a place where I've already got a group of friends, so I can find myself again among the people who already know me.

Having said all of that, I guess the only thing that stops me from pitying myself all of the time is how many (lovingly aggressive) friends I've made over the years, even having been so shy. There have been a lot of days when I've felt like giving up, and part of what has kept me going is remembering that there are people that care.

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, and like you: most people are incredibly surprised to find out how introverted I actually am. It seems like we're both pretty good at turning on the extroversion, when called for.

[ninstorage.livejournal.com]

MBTI lists me as INTP and what is worst = 89-100% introversion, depending on my "good" and "bad" days.

re "maps into your own experiences" = yes

Although, I believe I have always been shy. Something to do with never being young and therefore always being more quiet and contemplative than everyone around.

As for the clown act - I pulled that off quite well in high school, but it was a role : "the class court jester", as a friend wrote in my autograph book. I think we all have these little strategies for survival. Making people laugh at something you point out is always a better option than having people point and laugh at you!

I'd say more but I think I'll uh, scurry back to my shell(LJ) now.

[snurri.livejournal.com]

100% is tough; but, it sounds like it's not 100% of the time, at least.

Yes, exactly as you say with the clown act--making them laugh on your schedule is definitely a way of deflecting that fear that they will laugh at you when you're not expecting it.

Thanks for commenting.