You know how you’re supposed to deal with an awkward social situation? You know, keep calm, state your case rationally and clearly, and then politely request a change of subject?
Well, apparently, tonight I was incapable, and made a complete tit of myself in front of about 15 Sydney knitters – a lot of whom I have never met before. Unfortunately though, some of them know where I live.
So, if you were there, and you were wondering why I was such an arse, I can only apologise and explain that I’ve still got this damn headcold, and that I don’t handle death very well. Apparently I’m overly emotional and fragile right now, and I should have explained that instead of growling at people.
I know that my moral compass is wired differently to other peoples, and that makes it my responsibility to navigate my way around dangerous waters, not start lobbing dynamite when things get interesting.
Most people don’t realise that I’m really socially awkward. That I never had a real friend until I was almost in high school (thanks Andrew), and that I still feel like people are only nice to me out of pity. I know that I have some good points, but when I’m sick, and life gets tricky, and somebody pokes at a sore spot, I regress to that little kid that nobody wanted to sit next to at playlunch.
Crazy Aunt Purl wrote a great post today. About how she used to react to triggers, and how she is living without her old crutches, and how she misses them, and knows they may not be gone for good, but that she knows she can live without them.
Maybe I can learn something.