An Attempt At An Explanation

5 AM. My body has a long standing rule to be perfectly willing to get up early on mornings that I don’t have to get up early and crave like the living dead to sleep longer on days that I do have to get up early.

For some reason, I started to think about my inability to maintain even a shred of normality in social situations. Or at least my perception of this.

I’m an introvert which means I look at parties or get-togethers the way many might look at war. My aim is not to have fun. My aim is to survive, keep all of my limbs in tact, keep all of my vital organs fully functioning, to not be dragged away in a straight jacket to an insane asylum, and to keep the odd misbehaviors from drawing so much attention that you don’t get invited to the next war.

From the looks I see on faces, I am absolutely sure I’ve frightened a lot of people out there. I would like to say that I don’t know myself half as well as I would like, but I do believe there is a normal person buried deep within me somewhere. The problem is, I think he’s been hog-tied by a maniac who walks around screaming “Hey!” at people while smiling too much and nodding too vigorously.

I don’t know why I get the instinct to run the other direction every time I see a room of people. I’ve always had trouble following the “just act like yourself” rule because, when the pressure is on, I can’t remember what “yourself” acts like. There's no script.

The normal guy inside me is pleading with me to just smile, shake hands, and say “How’s it goin’?” in a calm voice. The nod isn’t even necessary.

But, even before I enter the room, the maniac is already panicking and hyperventilating with sweaty palms thinking, “Oh geez, oh geez. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. We’re under attack! Abort the mission! Bravo! Tango! Echo! Pull back, men!”