It’s no secret that I am socially awkward around people that I am not close to – people that give me the feeling that I have to be funny, hilarious and overly happy and chatty. It all starts with a tiny bit of small talk, where I usually fail before climbing onto the next level of socializing.
I wrote a short story on the last day of last year and didn’t realize that it was an actual warning to myself – which was not to go out. Though, I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, especially my other half. On the other hand, I was also slightly consumed by the bliss that I’d completed a little short story in one day. Maybe I wanted to celebrate that or maybe I just wanted to do someone a favour. I don’t know.
Not to mention that I was ill in the first place, I wouldn’t have thought it was going to get worse than it already was.
By the time I arrived at my workplace, I could already feel cold sweat rolling down my back. People were everywhere and wanted to talk. What’s wrong with that? But how I felt, you will not understand. That party mode look in their faces…it made me want to kill each one of them, that was when I knew I didn’t belong and should’ve never come that night. Trying my best to still fit in somewhat, I socialized as best as I could, though, it seemed like whatever I said I would be accused of being “anti-social”, “the Grinch” or “negative”. Even though, I didn’t think I was being that bad. And for the third time, I knew I shouldn’t have come. Those people would’ve been better off without my presence, even my other half. I am saying this in all seriousness.
Just to cut the story short, I had signed up for a party to which I didn’t want to go, in which I didn’t fit in. With a bad cold and thus a small voice, I wasn’t able to communicate in that goddamn scally bar. And then I forgot that it was NYE and the bar was filling up leaving me squashed and pushed around. The ugly music got louder, too. People I knew were just looking at me, almost pitying me, but not talking to me. Of course, I was sick and couldn’t shout.
I told myself to stick around till at least midnight, so he could give me that kiss he wanted. Then I probably would’ve pissed off without a word because I was suffocating.
Though that happened a little too soon, unfortunately.
Tears began rolling down my cheeks, I couldn’t breathe and I began depersonalizing myself, as though trying to escape my body as best as I could.
My other half had to take me home. Having gotten a taxi, I pointed out to him that he should go back into the bar and have fun, but he didn’t and went home with the miserable me that I was in the last half hour of 2014. In the cab, I was gasping for air.
During that panic attack, my immune system sank to 0 and I caught the first virus that was in the air. My cold got worse and I lost my voice. About five days later I found out that I had laryngitis. So, this means I haven’t spoken properly since last year and I haven’t missed it much, either. I’m glad of what I am accomplishing during my recovery. Losing money on the work front is no longer a big deal to me. Mourning over my bad decisions doesn’t bring me any further anyway. Maybe I didn’t really want to be on my own on NYE and I knew how much he wanted to go out to catch up with friends and I didn’t want to bore him with a night in, either, even though he’d suggested it. I thought I could do it one more time, but I was wrong. I almost forgot that it was NYE and I forgot how goddamn disastrous the NYE crowd could be. I proved myself to be too weak to bite myself through that night and I am sorry if I have disappointed anyone. I should’ve listened to myself. The second half of 2014 wasn’t really the best and I’m glad it’s over.
The rest is not important. Except that I am looking forward to whatever’s new and not being judged for who I am. Since no one knows I am/was trying hard.