I have been feeling terribly self-conscious, paranoid even, in both the real and virtual worlds, lately
Sometimes it feels like I’m back in the playground – the outcast kid, who unwittingly broke some unspoken rule is now ostracised and ridiculed.
There doesn’t seem to be a place where I feel safe, where I belong.
I am increasingly uncomfortable living in this street. With the constant neighbourly gatherings in various garage doorways, the neighbours’ kids constantly out and about on their bikes – riding up and down the street, cracking their whips, shouting at each other. I feel like I’m under constant scrutiny. Coming and going. Walking out to the mailbox, pruning the lavender.
Yes, we all wave and say hello to each other from driveways and I’ve been invited to join in the street drinks, albeit not when a session was under way.
Mind you, I do have social phobia, which I can manage, but the thought of walking into a group of complete strangers who have known each other for years, terrifies me….! And I’m terrified of what stories they might be telling about me, because I haven’t joined in…!
This afternoon, I walked past one of these, taking my younger son to the playground. I sat on a bench while he played, when three of the neighbourhood kids appeared out of nowhere and began riding their bikes around and around the dirt paths at the playground, deliberately skidding to a halt right in front of me, kicking up dirt towards me… I asked them to stop, but they just said “What?”.
We left. I wanted to talk to one of the mothers of the kids, but as they were all sitting together having drinks, I just couldn’t face them all. And maybe what the kids were doing, wasn’t really meant to be annoying?
Maybe I am incredibly paranoid?
It is so hard to know what is real and what is just in my mind. Recovering from 18 years of lies does that to you. It is really difficult to trust anyone or anything. All I know and trust is my kids. And probably myself. I need to keep us safe.
I want to run, but I’m sick of running.
I hate how close all the houses are. I hate how narrow the street is. It feels like all the windows are constantly staring at me. I want a big wall around us. Somewhere to hide…. I want to feel safe…
The virtual world is not so immediate, yet, again, I suddenly feel very self-conscious about what I do there. Actions and words are misconstrued. Meaning is sought where there is none. Words are put in my mouth…
My blogging goals and views seem to be at odds with those of so many others. Or at least it seems that way. I start to question my goals. I start to question why I don’t want to help anyone else, why I don’t have a “greater cause”. The truth is that my only cause is me and my boys. We are what really matters and we need to keep safe and sound. We need a roof over our heads, food in our fridge, a car to take us where we need to go. Is that selfish?
I’m not expecting that the blog itself will provide all those things, but it is a starting point. I don’t have the luxury of spreading good will to all men, playing nice for the sake of it. I am here to learn, to gain some skills, to gain self-confidence. I am here to clear my head, to create something out of the swirling craziness inside.
I don’t have a niche. I am my niche. This is my story. And I want to tell it my way….
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