At the corner of front and center

If Shakespeare will allow me to paraphrase him, I sometimes feel like we're all actors in an almost first-rate movie. No, let me revise that, we're actors in some drama academy, like in Fame or something. I've been forced into the class, and they keep making me do things they say are 'normal', and will help me master my art, like pretending I'm a strip of frying bacon. And all I want to be is the make-up artist. Or work at the craft table.

Is this analogy working? What I mean is that sometimes, I feel so terribly visible. I feel like I have an audience, whether it be people driving by in cars, or bored shop owners looking at me from their windows, or black-clad Portuguese nonas watching me as I walk past. It's something I've never been entirely at ease with. I know, this sounds egocentric, but I don't mean it to. I just never really realized, till this late in the game, that other people are interested in what I'm doing. In how I look. In what I have to say.

As a kid, I clearly remember(because you do not make these things up) auditioning with a friend for the school talent show, doing a lip-sync of Micheal Jackson's 'Thriller'. We were pretending to be zombies, and I didn't have a costume, so I borrowed my sister's puffy ski jacket, grey with pink clouds on it. Oh, there were countless dance routines, politely endured by my bemused parents, or occasional flirtations with singing and acting in school productions. I don't recall too much about feeling silly or so shy I couldn't do what was expected of me. And then it stopped. I'm sure there was some pivotal moment, but I don't remember it. That level of un-self-consciousness, one of the most sublime facets of childhood, died in me, and was replaced with intense self-awareness.

I couldn't speak in front of more than one person at a time. I couldn't order pizza over the phone. I was scared of men. I failed oral presentations at school becauseI couldn't stand in front of the class. My fear was accompanied by a host of symptoms-clammy hands, fiery guts, shortness of breath, and of course, my trademark blush, the betrayal of all calm and coolness. I felt like an alien, even if other people talked about nerves and jitters, I knew my experience was different. It's the worst paradox I've faced, fearing an audience so much that your body trembles out every spasm of nervous energy, making your fear so transparent. And being fearful of your response to fear.

Do we blame hormones?
Overly-critical peers, who teach us, just a little, about breaking hearts and making social gaffes?
How about the media? Aren't they somehow behind every unhinged, deranged impulse and disorder society suffers from?

It took a long time to make even small steps in overcoming my disorder. I still do battle with it, because even with years of therapy, I don't know how I got to be like this. I don't know why I think people are judging me, unfavourably or otherwise. I don't know why some people are shy and anxious, like me, and others are energized by the same stimuli. It doesn't seem fair.
I just want to be normal.

There are scads of things I feel socially anxious doing. For example:

Eating sushi in public. And pasta. And veggie burgers. Actually, I think this anxiety is more aptly titled "Eating in public". When I was little, and my parents would force me to eat meat, which I hated, I would chew it for hours and store it away in my cheeks. Gentle mocking ensued. This habit, I bashfully admit, has followed me into adulthood. I take a mouthful of food, and a few minutes later, that odd chipmunking behaviour occurs. I'm trying to tell myself it's cute. But I'm wary...

Purchasing necessities at Shopper's Drug Mart. There are a lot of items that fall into this category. For instance;
Tampons. I go out of my way to act like I don't care. I would walk around with the box on my head and a sandwich board saying "Menstrual and proud" if I thought it would offer credibility but inside, I'm thinking no one needs to know this about me, no matter how 'natural'.
Condoms. I feel like the person behind the counter is thinking,even for one split second 'hmm, this person is having sex'. And a judgement is being made, however slight. Because I used to work at Shopper's, and I can clearly remember thinking things like that about people buying condoms, more specifically 'That person is having sex, and I'm not. Go figure.' Again, another tidbit of highly personal information that a private person like myself feels a bit strange sharing with the general public.
Digestive Aids. I don't mean Pepto. Everyone buys Pepto. I mean things like Metamucil, you know, for when you can't go. Or Immodium, for when you can't stop. When you have to buy these things, when you're in a bad way, other people's empathy, while lovely and well-meaning, can seem a bit invasive.

Going to see live music alone. This one kills me, because music means everything to me. I love a good live show, but more often than not, I have trouble finding people to come with me. I've been to a show by myself, and it wasn't so bad, only I had actually lost the person I was supposed to meet there, so I knew the whole time she was there somewhere, which doesn't really count as going alone. In theory, it makes perfect sense to go alone, because once the music starts, you don't really talk much(unless you are those manner-challenged Torontonians who go to shows only to be seen and gossip loudly infront of me from your lofty five feet and eleven inches-why are you always so tall? why are you at every show?) But in between sets, what do you do with yourself? Do you read? It's so dark! Do you stand by the bar and drink your beer? Do you just stand there, wondering what to do with your hands once the beer is done? I'd love to be one of those loners you see standing against a wall, unaffected by their solitude. Or one of those crazy-haired older dudes, who rock out to a completely different tempo than the one being played, completely oblivious to the rest of the crowd, just feeling the music. Those guys, I respect.

There's more. But I really feel like if I go into more detail, you will stop reading my blogs. You will think 'Man, this girl has issues', and you will dismiss me, but you shouldn't be so dismissive because I'm just quirky. (That's what I call my social anxiety now. Quirky. Idiosyncratic.) Look, I know no one is thinking this much about what I do with my everyday life. I am not the center of anyone else's universe.

I keep trying to tell you other actors that I'm not a piece of frying bacon either, that I'm not like you, but you know what? I am. Like everyone else, I graduated from childhood, and now I'm in charge, directing, producing and starring in my own movie. I do my own make-up. There are plenty of outtakes and bloopers. A couple of gratuitous love scenes. And it's low budget at the best of times.

But the soundtrack is awesome.