Free speech in aisle 5

Yesterday I went to the grocery store, not the most exciting thing, definitely not my favorite thing, but necessary none the less.


I don't like going out into public too much, due to my unreasonable (so I've been told) view on how I look. Even the thought of going out and being "seen" makes my heart race and my breath get shorter. I know it seems silly, but it is hard for me.

As difficult as it is, especially on one of my "bad" days, I refuse to let it beat me and keep me locked in my house all the time. I force myself to be as normal as possible.


Through mostly trial and error I've learned little tricks that help me deal with my anxiety when I do go some where. My most important . . . never look anyone in the eye. I don't want to see their judgment, whether it be imagined or not.


But the second, I thought, is much more positive. I talk to people. Yes, strangers. I know that talking to people and not looking them in the eye seems like an odd match, but I've mastered it out of necessity. You can speak to someone while looking at them, but not looking them directly in the eye. I know where my comfort zone is.


Call it a nervous reflex, but if I am walking down an aisle and an opportunity comes to talk to someone, whether they move aside to let me pass by or we are standing next to each other in line . . . stuff like that. I usually say something stupid, like, "wow, we all came to the store at the same time" or something similar . . . I don't think I have ever said something intelligent in one of those moments.

I can't help it, I don't know why. I guess it's just another way to try to combat my social anxiety.  I tell people their babies are cute, I smile at old ladies.

This may surprise some people, but more often than not people give me a weird look and just look the other way. Or they give me a dirty look, as if to say, "why is this stranger speaking to me?" Every once in a great while I will get a weak, polite smile, and even more rare is the person who will return the conversation. Less than 2 out of ten are the latter if I had to estimate.

Yesterday my effort to be friendly and social was met with particularly thick indifference. When I left, and I feel like this often when I leave the store, I feel like an idiot. I feel frustrated and stupid. Why do I go out of my way to be friendly when people just think I am weird?

Why is it so strange and out of place for a person to talk to another in a public place? Why am I met with such awkward glances when I try to be social? I know that none of these people can have any idea how hard it is for me to reach out, so I can't hold that against them, but otherwise I don't get it.

Every time I leave the store I do the classic palm to to forehead "D'oh!" thing. Then I convince myself that no one wants to talk to me, I am just not pretty enough or cool enough. That's just how my mind works. But then every weekend it's the same. I can't help but smile at the cute little old couple holding hands, or tell the lady behind me in line that her baby is adorable. It's sad that in our world that is considered odd.

Every once in a while some lonely old man will sit and chat with me, about how much I look like his oldest daughter when she was my age, about how he remembers when groceries were so much cheaper. I like to think that we help each other, the little old man and I. We are each dealing with something that people who don't have it won't understand -- he with the loneliness and me with crippling social anxiety and low self image.

Those moments, having a conversation with a stranger and knowing they enjoy it, makes it better to an extent. Those are so rare though, that most of the time I leave questioning my sanity.

Should I keep talking to people, trying to be polite and friendly? Or should I learn to keep my mouth shut? Who knows. I guess I will see how I feel about the next time I go some where.