Catchin' up- An Older Post
I hate and love Christmas at the same time. I'm not an especially large fan of the holiday season because I'm not an especially social person at festive gatherings. Or any gatherings, for that matter. I usually find myself dreading the thought of running into relatives I haven't spoken with in a while, or being drawn away from things I would normally be doing if not for scheduling around with the holidays; however, when they finally do arrive, I usually find myself enjoying their company. Christmas is an opportunity for our family to come together and share how we've been with one another; Thanksgiving seems to be there more for people who might not make it come Christmas time and want to log their hours early.
I dread meeting with family because I haven't grown into the guy everybody thought I would be. When I was younger it was widely accepted by the family that I was bright, and I was buried in honors courses with serious plans for college; unfortunately, it takes more to make a person successful than a high Intelligence Quotient, and I haven't lived up to becoming everything I could have been. Fear, depression, anxiety, and anti-social tendencies have retarded my progress since I left school. It's taken me nearly five years just to stumble across an activity I enjoy enough to make the attempt to shape into a career at some point in my future. In all of those years I might have made fifteen friends, and of those friends I presently only keep in touch with two. I haven't returned to school, yet, and although I still maintain the intention of returning, I find myself intimidated into submission by the very school I plan to attend. So many young, busy, social people, all in a very academic and prestigious establishment, the majority of whom are coming right out of high school... It all scares me to death. I never attended a graduation for high school and some small part of myself still feels as though I'm still trapped in it. The idea of being back around people of that age and state of mind frightens me dreadfully. One step at a time I'm making an effort to poke out of my shell just long enough to figure out how to deal with the every-day-world outside of my apartment; from there, we'll see if I can deal with my social anxieties effectively enough to accomplish my aims.
I enjoy writing because I can do it on my own. Until I get an editor involved my work and my thoughts are my own, and I don't need to ask anything of anyone if I don't choose to do so. When I write, I can take my time to present the thoughts I want to present in the way I choose to present it; there is no bumbling of thoughts or awkward pauses for forgotten words. Through writing you can be judged by the quality of your argument rather than your charisma or confidence. It's the ultimate anti-social format for communication and it's the only medium I feel confident communicating through. That is to say, that I would feel confident communicating through if I had confidence in my writing abilities... but skill comes through learning, and confidence through practice. One day I'll be strong enough to take on the real world with my writing, and on that day I hope to come out of my shell long enough to meet the world I am writing for.
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