The Interwebz – A Big and Scary World!

Especially for us mythical creatures. As y’all know, there are no **GIRLS** on the interwebz!

Well, ‘cept for Crazy Aunt Purl.  She is just pure awesomeness in blog form.

I kinda did this backwards. After reading about it, I realized that they had my first post all ready and formatted, and all I needed to do was plug and play! I however have enough male genes that I didn’t bother to read the greeting stuff, just jumped right in with both feet. Now, I find that I have 3 screws, two bolts, a washer, and one support beam left over. Oh well. I am sure that they weren’t important to the structure of the thing.

Onward.

I am not an outgoing person. (Shut up, you people that know me. I’m not. You didn’t know me **when**, or you would know this).

In actuality, I am very shy, and given my druthers, would stay home, order in groceries, and putter. (druthers and putter. Showing my calendar years much?)

The real world however, demands that one work to make money, if one wishes to have luxuries like a roof over one’s head, electricity to keep warm (or cool as the case may be), and food on the table. High speed internet is a bonus.

So, I leave my hermit cave 5 days a week, and venture out into the world. Where there are PEOPLE, PEOPLE! And, in order to function there, one must interact some.

Back in the day, I was *that* girl. The one that got picked on, teased, and bullied unmercifully. At least, until one or two people actually took the time to try *TALKING* to me. Then, they realized that maybe I was kinda funny, and fun, and maybe, just maaaaaaaybe… not someone who should be pushed into the school science labs algae pond. >.>

I was very mama bearlike when it came to other people. Pick on Cindy, and make her cry? I would say something about it, and when you came after me, throw the first (very ineffectual) punch before you pounded my face in. Make fun of Terri’s knock knees? I will chase you UP the mountain. Better hope I don’t catch you, boy!

Make fun of me? Hmmmm. Try to shrug it off, and become a bit more invisible. Make it worse? That warranted going home, and screaming into a pillow until I couldn’t breathe, but my heart would slow down from the scared rabbit race it was running. When this was happening as a kid, there were not computers at home. No cable – at least not in the mountains. Hell, we didn’t even have a VCR. My birthday present every year included renting one, with a movie of my choice (OMG – a real, new MOVIE!  at HOME!). A lil primal scream therapy til the heart slowed, and then escape into the fantastic world of some marvelous author was my self prescribed therapy.

My senior year in high school, that changed. I wanted to be an astronaut. To do that, I had to go to the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs. To do **that**, I had to have all sorts of stuff under my belt – not just good grades, but healthy body, and extra curricular activities, which of course, meant people.

So. I determined to take my life back. I used a rude sort of shock immersion therapy on myself, and it kinda worked. I joined the Drama club, and found out I was pretty good at acting, and comedic timing. We did A Comedy of Errors. I had a small part, but it did have lines, and I was a named character. Other mini skits got rave reviews, and my “Blanche Dubois” from A Streetcar Named Desire? Was praised as “as good as Broadway” I joined the concert choir, and was quite happy in the chorus. (No soloing for me TYVM!) Joined forensics, and did dramatic interpretation.

And, I made some friends. I had changed high schools, and for the first time since grade school, I had a circle of friends. It was nice.

It did not however, get me into the Air Force Academy. At that time, in 1986, they would not accept you if you had had certain issues. One of them was psychological counseling, and my family had done a family therapy course. That made me absolutely not eligible. They suggested that I **enlist** in the army. I passed.

I was, and still am, a bundle of neuroses. I still get defensive, curl up into a ball and want to hide with any kind of negativity. (don’t ask how that works in a Customer Service job. Seriously.) If it becomes too much, I don’t have to scream.  I can go into a game, online, and kill pixels.  If it is really bad, I can go into some lower level dungeon, and own the whole thing in a big, showy one shot mess.

I can bluff pretty good most of the time, but underneath, I am still that very shy, and reclusive girl.

I did learn one thing from all this though. Shy and reclusive do NOT equal weak. I am strong. When it really counts, I am strong.

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7 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. I'm Still Standing
    Nov 19, 2011 @ 18:01:28

    I hear my own voice here… I was the unhealthy picked on girl, the one that decided she wanted to do something big other than be a mama bear to her tiny group of friends. I wanted to be a doctor and well, it’s kinda like my mom says College ruined me! Not just on the psychological and the therapy, but it was confining when it should of been liberating.

    While it ultimately wasn’t my crazy head that kept me out, but diabetes, I had survived my ASVAB with what looked like would be a promising medical career.

    Surprise diabetes.

    Anyway… enough Kitter rambling.

    While shyness, reclusivivity and introversion are considered by many to be socio-pathological weaknesses, I stand up and agree with you, and on occasion am known to express that those traits are not weak. Just stronger willed, more opinionated… and I wonder if you agree when I say that it just means if we are passionate about something (enough others know about it) that it’s just that much more important.

    Eh… rambling anyway.

    Have a great weekend.

    Reply

  2. Geeking out
    Nov 19, 2011 @ 23:55:55

    Passion for something does indeed play into it, Kit. The more you want something, REALLY want something, the more you will do to get it. Scary or not. Writing is very important to me, so I am willing to let it (most – not ALL) hang out here, hoping to build, hone, and polish that. Even if it is skeery. ❤ you muches and bunches, miss kitter!

    Reply

  3. Vicky
    Nov 20, 2011 @ 01:06:21

    I once read that the astronaut program had this tiny little problem in that too much of the general population is perfectly capable of space flight, so they had to come up with all kinds of bizarre ways of paring the numbers down. 😦

    And school being confining instead of liberating? Oh man, SO TRUE.

    Reply

  4. Sarah Simons
    Nov 20, 2011 @ 01:54:22

    You are right, you are strong, and beautiful, and funny 🙂 love ya!

    Reply

  5. Geeking out
    Nov 20, 2011 @ 03:51:21

    Vicky – that may be true of the space program. One of the problems here, was it was true of ANY officer track, in any branch of the military, and even most enlistments. (Remember, this was before the end of the cold war, and there were stricter rules on anything regarding military due to that).

    As for school? Uh huh. Kinda bass ackwards, huh?

    Sarah – I ❤ you hon. You do know that you fit that description as well. All of my friends do. I wouldn't have it any other way!

    Reply

  6. Vineyard
    Nov 22, 2011 @ 22:33:02

    The Air Force Academy bit is amazing to read and I can see that when you put your mind to something you can accomplish a lot. I was also very introverted in my youth and I attribute customer service as the main way in which I learned to cope with the noise and haste of the world. Like you experienced with the drama club and circle of friends, I also believe that I lead a more fulfilling life now that I can walk with a balanced stride in both worlds.

    Reply

    • Geeking out
      Nov 23, 2011 @ 04:59:48

      Thanks, Vineyard. I am amazed and awed that you come here, and are truly interested in what I have to say, and read it. This was a hard post to write, in a lot of ways.

      I kinda had a bit of a (BIG) panic attack hitting the button for post. This is my equivalent of a kitty sleeping belly side up in an unfamiliar place. (both the doing 25 years ago, and the posting now)

      It is still a battle I fight, even if it isn’t obvious to those around me in public. I often have the urge to run away, to a dim and quiet place, where there is no one else, and just BREATHE.

      Striving, and learning, and growing are my goals here (along with the writing discipline, of course.)

      It would be a nice bonus, to find that my panic inducing post helped someone else as well. Someone maybe in that situation, but overwhelmed, and not sure what to do, take that first tiny step (not necessarily the same step – I think in hindsight that I was pretty nuts to take on so much) to reclaiming a life – even if it isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world.

      Remember, at the end of every day, sanctuary awaits, even if it is killing pixels, or escaping into a novel, or just floating, listening to music that fills the soul.

      Reply

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