“And Now I Just Sit In Silence”: Reclaiming My Quiet Space in a Loud Place
A recurring theme in my life is “you’re too quiet, and that’s a bad thing; you need to be more social.” And I used to feel terrible about it. I still do sometimes. To the point where I try to force myself to socialize the way society expects people socialize-always to my own detriment, and the detriment of those around me, which always makes me feel like a burden. But I’m learning that I shouldn’t feel bad about how other people are reacting to my quietness. Because there’s nothing wrong with it.
For many people, it’s easy/easier to learn a lesson in socializing, and immediately making it part of their routine. For me, it takes a fuck ton of time. And often, it’s not something that sticks. Because I’m just not a verbal person.
Writing. Typing. Texting. All are the best ways to get to know me better. And with the rise of technology, people see it as a crutch. That I’m too reliant on technology, and I’m being lazy/stubborn/difficult by not being social like everyone else. But that flattens both my preferred style of communication and who I am as a person into some distorted, one-dimensional version of who I am.
And I know, often, it’s exasperating to people that whenever I do finally open up and feel safe it comes out in torrents. Like I’m unloading all of my madness onto someone, and I’m taking advantage of their trust, kindness, patience, etc. And I am unknowningly guilty of it. I’ve never really known, deep down, permanence. Especially not with friends. So whenever it does happen, my entire being starts to break apart. And it’s unfair to the people around me that I can’t trust myself enough to trust the people I want to trust. It’s often been the lighter fluid on the bridges I’ve burned.
And I don’t know how to truly verbalize these feelings with the emotion they deserve because I often keep them to myself, and say everything in a monotone way because I also don’t really know how to express my emotions (aside from happiness, anger, and depression). And because of this, I’m often thinking about how to say something with the “right” emotions so I can seem like a “normal” person.
And all the time spent in my head has made me much the daydreamer. I spent a good majority of my days-even if I’m talking to someone, listening to music, watching TV, etc.-daydreaming about different stories, which helps me write whatever fictional stories I’m working on at the time.
But my silence is rarely a punishment. Even if I’m still getting used to people, and especially after a conflict. It takes a while for me to be comfortable around most people, and there are a rare few that I’m instantly drawn towards; however, no one is immune from the swiftness of my retraction of trust. It doesn’t mean I hate you, and my avoiding you doesn’t mean that either. It just means that in my silence, I’m restructuring where you fit in my life and doing my best to take down my iron defenses.
I won’t apologise for being quiet. It’s how I best know to exist in the world. Even if I’ve spent weeks talking passionately about everything that interests me under the sun. Everyone else just has learn to accept that my silence is not a weapon. It allows me the opportunity to listen to and observe the people around me, and learn things I wouldn’t be able to just by talking all the time.
Just give me the time and space to actually relax and recharge (especially considering my job requires me to be “on” for strangers, many of whom don’t care that they’re being emotionally abusive). If I can be off around you and just sit in silence, that’s already a sign of trust. I don’t require silences to be filled; however, that doesn’t mean I’ll stop anyone from talking and enjoying themselves. And whenever I space out or retreat into myself, it’s just a way for my body to replenish the limited amount of socializing battery I have.
*plays “Here’s Where I Stand” from the Camp soundtrack*
P. S. This also means that it’s almost impossible to tell if I’m being honest when I say that I’m okay/fine/etc. because my voice is very monotone; however, I assure you that I’m in a calm, neutral place most of the time nowadays, and that’s good (as opposed to a neutral place that feels like I’m being crushed by an intense gravitational pull). Most of the time I don’t feel one way or another about anything unless I say otherwise, or it shows in my body language.
Originally published at https://medium.com on March 22, 2020.
