Testing one, two…testing one, two…is this thing on?
¡Muy bien! Let’s dust off these cobwebs, shall we?
Welcome back, folks, to the Confessions.
And no, your GReader isn’t playing tricks on you.
For those of you who’ve had the distinct pleasure of talking to me, you are well aware that I will say anything. Well more like my mental filter is just very selective in how it wants to work. I will be the first one to get people to laugh in an awkward silence. Those of have ever talked to me on Skype, Google Video, the phone, or in person probably realized quickly that I am just a wee bit of a motor mouth.
Yet despite all my love of talking, I suck at meeting people.
Oh sure I can go up to someone and introduce myself but I always feel anxious. Like I always feel like I’m bothering people by talking to them. Maybe it is just the last shades of my inner shy child but it always happens whenever I meet someone new.
Even online, I do this. I’ll get on Gmail or Skype (if you haven’t added me yet, for shame) and see people who I would love to talk to are on but I just freeze up. Some time I will actually open the conversation box and just stare at it because I have no idea what to say or how to get a conversation started. It’s like in middle school when I was still at Big Bang Theory-levels of social awkwardness.
Then comes the actual starting a friendship and where 95% of my anxiety stems from. I was pretty much an outcast (very very much not by choice) until high school and even now at 23, I still sometimes wonder if people are actually my friends. Yeah, I know that’s a common fear but so far as I can tell, not many others have this thought immediately.
I generally follow a few steps: I meet someone. Whether at a store, train, in class, at work, and find myself in a conversation with them. This happens repeatedly. I start hanging out with them purposefully. But I still hear that voice in my head going “what if they are just humoring me to be polite?”
I hate being alone.
Abhor it. Loathe it. Despite it.
I thrive on having someone to talk to. It’s like giving a starving man a feast. Without the GI issues, of course. And I’d be lying if the thought of going back to that does not fill me with dread.
Is this fear unhealthy? As long as I’m not going to insane lengths to keep people in my life, I would think not. But I’ve never really been one for denial so might as well get it out there. Considering how many people in the past year alone, I’ve cut out of my life for various personal reasons I think I am OK on this front.
Or so I hope.
The people who are all ready my friends, and have proven so time and again, deserve better from me.
Time to give it to them.
The entire year I was applying and interviewing and waiting and interviewing and OH MY GOD, WHY HAVEN’T THEY MADE UP THEIR MINDS YET! yet waiting some more, I thought long and hard about how much good I wanted to do as a teacher.
I don’t regret it for a second.
Did I worry that I would be too young for them to respect?
Did I worry that I would have such a bad experience that I would be turned off teaching?
Did I let it really bother me?
Have you been reading this blog at all? No.
I remember my final interview with the principal here and her asking me about my temperament. I told her I was an optimist. To the point of being a cautious idealist. All attempts to curtail this impulse have failed spectacularly.
The day I got that blessed envelope stating my internship application had been approved?
I state here with no shame whatsoever that there was a slipper-aided version of The Running Man.
Other than some problems adjusting initially (going from elementary to high school students, such problems were anticipated), my first semester here has been great. I have actually found myself having fun dealing with all the stresses that are part and parcel of the job. Although, it has caused me to forget once twice a ridiculous amount of times that I am still a college student.
Not to sound like my mother but I’ve found my groove. My students respect AND like me. My coworkers are absolutely fantastic with me, showing me the ropes. And I may have a contract waiting in May because I wasn’t having enough trouble deciding my future as it was which is awesome.
Will teaching be what I do the rest of my life? Maybe. I have rough ideas bouncing around for a set of novels and a cookbook so we’ll see what happens there.
For now though, I have 15 seniors about to come in through the door. Who are dreading the idea of a group project. Which I find privately hilarious. I am a bit of a sadist. I am merely easily amused. Ah and here come the despodent angels now.
They see me smirking at them.
They feel nervous.
On the inside, I am cackling.
Well duty calls, so long kids.