memory

Sometimes people tell themselves a story so often that it becomed ingrained in memory as fact, and they believe it unless proven otherwise. Sometimes that happens in reverse. So many things happen in a person's life that it seems natural for us to forget things over time, even if they remain in us in other ways. They're never forgotten entirely, just dormant. The major things we remember aren't always the most important.

I have flashes every now and then of things that happened to me that I had almost forgotten entirely, and usually those spur whole trains of insight into why things are the way they are. Usually they happen during some mindless activity. Like just now, I remembered just how often my dad used to say to me "Children should be seen and not heard." I was quite a loud and boisterous child, to the extent that some called me a ham or a show-off. This is why my parents initially got me involved in the theatre. Thinking about this, though, just like remembering being locked in a closet and realizing why small spaces make me feel safe and comfortable, made me realize a few things.

I don't think my dad likes kids. Really, he doesn't much care for people in general, but kids specifically get on his nerves. He never treated us like kids, and expected his rationale for things to be transparent from an adult point of view. Whenever I'd start acting like a kid, I'd get the seen-and-not-heard line. When you're told something long enough, it starts to shape you. I'm a lot quieter than I used to be. A lot more reserved.

The anti-socialization thing seems to have affected my ability to work like other people. This got me thinking about flirting. Maybe, in some normal universe I'm not a part of, people feel comfortable flirting and recieving flirtations. Being flirted with makes me really damned uncomfortable, to the point where I'll actively avoid the people doing the flirting. Me flirting with people never happens, despite what anyone might think. For some reason I end up holding to a more polite and structured social decorum than is typical anymore. It's when I try to make an attempt to loosen up and fit to more relaxed norms of socialization that I end up making a gross faux pas. Very few other people hold to this structure, which usually results in placation and imposition. So I sit in someone's house feeling very uncomfortable that they're not making just the right degree of accomodation, and I'm worrying that I'm imposing on some scale I can't comprehend. Yet another complex justification as to why I'm not good with people. Maybe it's hereditary.

I've given up hope, too, that you're going to get back in touch with me. It probably won't happen, and thus the natural order of things has been restored. I don't do the opaque thing anymore.

So that's my semi-daily attempt at self-psychoanalysis. Oh, and this is really cool.