Don't Talk To Me

This classic song by GG Allin just cheered me up.

Avoiding My Co-Workers

I often felt so uncomfortable interacting with co-workers that I devised all sorts of ways to avoid them.

One of my favorite methods of co-worker avoidance was to spend every single break and lunch hour studying. When anyone would ask me to lunch, I would always say I had to study for a test in accounting, statistics, economics or some other tough-sounding subject. This would usually elicit sympathy and a quick departure.

The fact that it took me over 15 years to graduate from college helped make this a very effective ruse indeed.

I also would make frequent lunch hour trips to libraries and bookstores to obtain "books I needed for classes."

I went on lots of exercise regimes that required me to be out walking during the lunch hour.

When I was in management positions, I simply worked through lunch most of the time.

During my last few years in the workforce, I finally figured out that it was helpful to have a few "safe" topics of general interest that would help me attempt to actually interact with people. Gardening, pets, kids and food (nothing too exotic) usually seemed to work pretty well. I was also mindful to steer clear of topics like beat poetry, philosophy, dumpster diving, politics, gay/lesbian issues- the kinds of things that really interest me-- I felt that I had to be self-censoring all the time to even be marginally accepted in the workplace. This level of alienation creates a constant feeling of anxiety and tension.

I Think I'm A Weirdo

Part of the social phobia that is undoubtedly a big part of my ergophobia is based on my deeply held inner belief that I am in fact a complete and total weirdo.

I have had this belief for as long as I can remember.

I remember feeling like a weirdo when I was too young to know what a weirdo even was. I have an early memory of being about 3 or 4 and feeling socially clueless with the little girl next door who was the same age as me. I remember we were sitting on a picnic bench in her back yard, and she had these pink rubber hair curlers that she wanted to put in my hair, and I clearly remember feeling like I was weird because I had no idea why she would even want to do such a thing, and I figured since I didn't have a clue about that, well, I must be weird then. I probably didn't even have the words for all that yet, but I very distinctly remember the feeling.

I remember being in the first grade, and the boys would chase the girls around the playground. I wanted to chase the girls around too, so I did, and then I realized I wasn't supposed to do that. So I went and hid behind the stairs. I then hid behind the stairs on a regular basis, because it was easier than trying to figure out how to act around other kids.

All my life I have felt that:

- Other people were interested in things that were totally different from my own interests, and vice versa.
- Most everyone else knew the unwritten social rules, and I didn't.
- My opinions, thoughts, and viewpoints are way different from other people's.
- If I tell people what I really think or feel, they will think that I am strange, weird, odd, different, etc.
- I need to carefully scan the social environment at all times so that I can act in ways that will keep me relatively safe and free from embarrassment and harm.
- There is no place where I really belong. Not even the fringe groups, subcultures, out-groups, etc.

I'm not sure where these beliefs came from. My parents seemed to basically accept me and love me for who I am. I did have some difficulty navigating school, but then again, I felt like I was different before I even started school.

As I have grown older, I have tried to look for more commonality with others. I have also consciously tried to create safe spaces for myself. Creating safe spaces for myself is a strategy that can backfire, however, because sometimes it leads to avoidance of any environments that I remotely feel could be uncomfortable or potentially rejecting in any way.

Paradoxically enough, some of my close friends have co-signed my belief that I am indeed very weird. Personally, I've known a lot of weird in my life, and honestly, truly, I think I am really quite mediocre in the weird department. So there.

Eddie Owens Martin Couldn't Relate to Society

"I built this place to have something to identify with, 'cause there's nothing I see in this society that I identify with or desire to emulate."  - Eddie Owens Martin, Artist, 1908-1986

Eddie Owens Martin (aka St. EOM) of Buena Vista, Georgia, a sharecropper's son with a 6th grade education, made a living as a fortune teller while building Pasaquan, the masterpiece outsider art installment in which he lived. He built his elaborate compound out of cinder blocks, cement, and various reclaimed materials, and painted it with mismixed Sherwin Williams paint from the local hardware store.

I want to go there someday. Here it is:

http://www.amazingsights.net/st-eom.html