If you ever get the chance to meet me in person, you’ll realize that I am not much of a talker. Some would say that I’m shy, others would say that I’m some sort of snob, but in reality I just don’t have much to say. Small talk absolutely irritates me even though I’ll do it because I know that’s what people are supposed to do when they first meet, and I’m really not the type of person to gab on and on about myself and all the great/bad things that are going on in my wonderful/horrible life. I know that must seem odd, especially since I share a lot about myself on this blog, but I just really don’t like to talk much. However, there are times where I do think there’s something wrong with me, and over the years I have tried to narrow down what may be the underlying cause to my lack of verbal communication so that I can fix it. Here’s my list, so far:
- I suffer from anxiety. I haven’t quite figured out where this anxiety stems from (nature vs. nurture), but it generally involves any type of social situation. I often commit to events that sound great at the moment, but when the time actually comes to attend the event I get a mini panic attack. In the past the attacks would be quite evident, but over the years I’ve learned to cope with it. Yes, “coping” used to mean having a cocktail or two, but now I just deal with it by thinking about all the atrocities that are happening out there in our world and that attending a social event is definitely not one of them. So basically I tell myself to “get over it.”
- I think I may suffer from a mild case of cluttering, which is a communication disorder. Outwardly I am a very calm and collected person, but inwardly my mind is racing faster than I can speak which causes me to blend words, skip words, or just tumble down and fall upon my words. When a cluttering episode occurs, I feel like an idiot mainly because I’m unable to smoothly get my thoughts across to people. I hate this feeling, and it’s just easier not to talk at times.
- I have a horrible memory. I’m terrible at remembering names (ask any of my students), memorizing poems or preambles is totally out of the question (I will probably die for admitting this since I used to force my students to memorize the Constitution’s Preamble), I often get stuck on a thought or explanation by trying to figure out the right word I want to use, and I mix up my idioms all the time. Again, another reason not to say anything.
- I am a closed door. I don’t trust people. I trust my family and my husband, but I have a hard time trusting friends, acquaintances, and obviously strangers. I think it began with a couple of shitty friends in elementary school who decided one day to no longer be my best friend and instead began calling me cottage cheese for whatever stupid reason. Luckily, as a child I was good at giving a swift kick in the crotch to people that made me angry. Anyway, at various times in my life I’ve had friends that really weren’t good friends. I guess they were more like frenemies, and it adversely affected me as a person. As a result, I don’t share much with people, but when I do
I drink Dos EquisI’ve become very selective as to who I share what with. It just sucks to get hurt, and it’s another great reason not to talk.
- I have attention issues. I zone out quite often, especially when other people are talking a lot or are talking about something I don’t give a rat’s ass about. I sometimes find it to be a great skill, but my husband finds my “skill” to be quite irksome most of the time. I think he’s just jealous because he can’t zone out during boring conversations. Anyway, as a result of my constant zoning out, I am often unable to give adequate input to a conversation, and therefore I tend to keep my trap shut.
- I am a loner. First, you must know that I’m an only child. I never had a sibling to play with or tease. As a result, I did a lot of things by myself and I still do. I like to read, go shopping, take long walks while listening to an audio book, and lounge around the house. This means I rarely talk to other people, and getting me on the phone is a difficult task to do. I would much rather you text me than call me. Since I rarely talk to others, I’m often at a loss for words when it comes time to socialize and carry on a conversation. It’s a good thing that most of my friends are talkers, which allows me to not have to say much.
So, once I found out I was pregnant with my son, I began making attempts to fix my communication problem. I don’t want my son to be quiet. I want him to express his opinions and feelings in an eloquent fashion. I want him to be better than me, and the only way he can is if I give/show him the tools necessary to do so. This means that I need to be a talker, a communicator, a socializer. In the past year I’ve made a concerted effort to spend time with my various friends, I helped create a book club which I’m still an active member in, and I’ve joined various mommy groups despite being kicked out of one recently due to lack of participation. (Hey, it’s not my fault that my son takes naps during their scheduled play dates!) I feel like this is just a start in dealing with my problem, and I hope that in time it will get easier for me to open up to people. But until then, feel free to drop by my blog every so often to see what I’m thinking, feeling, doing, and whatever the hell else I seem to write about on here, since I’m probably not going to tell you about it the next time I see you.
My title reminded me of this song which has very little to do with the topic. Enjoy!