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Tuesday, 5 June 2012

The Party

I always think I'm not invited. 

I was on my way to a party a few days ago; and halfway through the journey my brain went into a panic. 


I was convinced that I was invited by mistake. That maybe the text reminders were for someone else with the same name as me. 


That kind of panic I can handle, because I've been doing it all my life. But then it got more insane. 


I suddenly had a bigger worry ----- what if there is no party? What If I got it all wrong? What if I turn up, knock on the door; birthday card in hand --- and I got the wrong day? Or maybe there is a gathering but it's not a birthday..?


My brain couldn't cope. Complete anxiety. 


I scrolled through all my text messages, desperate to see the word 'birthday'. It wasn't there. 


WAS IT HER BIRTHDAY? WAS IT TODAY? WAS I INVITED?


I arrived at her place. I knocked on the door. 


I heard some voices; it sounded party-like. A good sign. 


And then it hit me. What if everybody hates me? What if they want to talk about my film work the whole time? What if they don't even mention my film work? What if they don't talk to me? What if I don't talk to them?


The panic reached fever pitch. I was about to walk into a house full of people who would see me give a birthday card to someone when it wasn't even her birthday. And then they would all hate me because somehow they all had access to my deepest insecurities and would use them all against me. 


This is why I hate going to the party. I lose all rationality. I get scared. 

Care to share?

6 comments:

  1. I'm sure you were the coolest kid at that party!

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  2. You are the coolest at every party...!!

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  3. I often get anxious before parties and social events though I was surprised to read that you do as well. You seem pretty confident from the posts I've read. Good post.

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  4. This is why you need to go to parties with someone else - because if all else fails, the two of you can go to a pub and get drunk. Happy days.

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  5. Just a couple of weeks ago I was in a taxi on the way to a party and realised that I had, indeed, got the wrong day. And I got too ashamed to admit to the taxi driver that he'd have to take me back home, so I asked him to drop me off at a mall where I walked in a circle for 10 minutes then went home on the bus.

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