Chapter One: Mutism.
Honestly, I
don’t like it when people call me out for being quiet. So, what if I’m quiet? Personally,
I dislike myself for not talking as much as other people do. But I also enjoy
my quietness. It allows me to be aware of my surroundings. I don’t think I was
always as mute as I am these days. I’d say I’d wonder about why this has
happened, but that would be a lie. I’d have thought of a reply, and would have
said it, then forget about acting on the task. Simply for one reason; I cannot
remember the past. Not like other people can do, as I think back now, I can’t
imagine what I was doing at certain ages, the only things I remember relate to
the time around my mums illness. My mum died when I was 12 years old in 2012.
Year 8 in Broadgreen School. I’m not certain but if I were a betting man, I’d
bet that that event made me into more of a recluse and sent me down a path that
has accumulated to where I am today. A close friend recently said to me that I
couldn’t hold a conversation for 6 hours. I used to be able to, and I’m
disappointed in myself that I no longer can. I haven’t seen that version of
myself in a very very long time.
I enjoy
listening to people talk about anything. I’m a great listener, or I try to be.
I get told infrequently that I’m a good friend because I’m a good listener. It
makes me happy to hear that since I want to be helpful, polite, and good
mannered around people. I don’t know why people enjoy my company these days,
since I’m such a shit communicator. Is it because I used to be a unique friend
to people? And they want to keep me around to remind them of the old times? Or
is it because they can’t get rid of me because they see that they’re the only
ones I have in this world except Leo. Don’t worry to much about that little
paranoia outburst guys if you’re reading this. I know you’re my ride and die
mofuckas; it’s just my anxiety.
I guess to
be honest at times I simply do not know what to say to the person I am engaged
in a conversation with. It’s a problem and as I usually do with problems, I
leave them to fester. Perhaps writing these memoirs will assist me in knowing
what to say. Who knows? Not knowing what to say in situations has fucked me
over many times. I’d probably have a girlfriend if I knew how to engage in
conversation with the opposite sex. It’s a problem I’ve had all my life and I’m
absolutely fed up of it. But it’s not just not knowing what to say to people,
it’s the anxiety around people and the anxiety of me not wanting to come across
as weird or a freak. I want to come across as a cool, chill guy that seems
confident. Instead I feel at this time I come across as a unkempt depressive
victim who is lonely and desperate. I forgot to add fat. Don’t forget my
fatness. I guess you could say I have a deep insecurity of not wanting to be
seen as wrong in the eyes of the person I am trying to engage with. I want to
connect to people, but I need to realise that not everyone should be connected
with. Some people you should not waste your own energy on. This is a fault that
I need to work on and I am. A great close friend told me this.