The Dying Art of Conversation, or My Abnormally Un-Social Life

I've been feeling a little crazy lately. Slightly bored, more depressed than I care to admit. Thankfully, when I stopped taking those thyroid drugs I started feeling much better, but a feeling of mundane-ness has crept into my existence. I'm really bored with life. With everything. Life feels meaningless.

I attempted to find a job of sorts. A friend of mine suggested I apply to be the part-time cook/grocery shopping assistant to a chemically sensitive man also suffering from a list of other ailments that have forced him to be home-bound and gluten-free. My friend erroneously led me to believe (OK, let's be truthful...she LIED!) he was having a hard time finding an assistant because they were all incapable of being fragrance free.

What seemed to be the perfect position and the perfect solution to my mundane-ness ended up being the interview from hell. Wow! I thought I was socially inept! This guy took it to a whole new level screaming at me every time I answered a question, responding with snarky comments every time I asked one, and micromanaging the way I spoke to him, the way I walked, how I moved, and what I touched. It was scary and I questioned if his anti-social behavior was the consequence of too much isolation. Or self-indulging entitlement? Have too many people been paid to cater to his every whim because of his illness? Will my reclusion contribute to this kind of personality disorder? Am I already as bad as he is? God, I hope not! Needless to say, I'm not that desperate for something to do and I do have enough self-respect not to want to be abused even for pay. However, turning down the job left me wallowing in disappointment. This did not help my disposition.


Then out of the blue a former acquaintance emailed me. She was the librarian at my college years ago, always kind, helpful and friendly, and she was the first person to ever buy my art. She still has a painting and a drawing of mine hanging on her wall and this made her wonder what had become of me. How joyous to re-connect with someone from the past!

We exchanged a couple emails before I panicked. I tend to write a lot. I can't be around possibly stinky people so writing from a distance is my social life. I have found some people don't like so much writing and they definitely don't like the unspoken requirement of reading it. I'm from the old-school letter writing tradition where one was taught to converse. Conversing is sharing in conversation: I talk about something; they respond with similar experiences or anecdotes. They share; I respond. I ask a question; they answer the question. They ask a question; I answer the question. This adds to the length of any writing endeavor.

Conversing, as well as letter-writing, is a lost art.  I've had several experiences with email exchanges where emailers write what seems to be some kind of personal form letter. Like a photocopied holiday letter to be sent to a couple hundred people. The email could have been written to anyone, I just happen to be the recipient. Or one of the recipients. In turn, as the recipient, I am expected to either not respond, or like the emailer, talk only about myself. Asking questions requires a person's commitment to the conversation. It's too much work and if I ask a question, it will go unanswered or I'll be told they don't have time to write just now. It's so fucking impersonal, but this is modern communication. Even bloggers don't converse - they talk about themselves to themselves and they are advised to keep their paragraphs very short so readers won't lose interest. We've become a society of self-centered, impatient people with short-attention spans. If you can't make your point in 140 Twitter-ish characters, don't bother trying to make it at all! This is fine unless one lives alone, isolated out in the middle of no where with little social interaction. I want to converse in writing with thoughtful, intelligent people who have something to say. I use email like most people use their telephones. I realize this is not normal, but welcome to my abnormally unsocial life.

Anyway, so when faced with a potentially new friend, I have to control my impulse to write novel-length emails. I don't do this well. And I apologize profusely for my verbosity, which I do very well. I'm sure this makes them question what is wrong with me. After a while my writing slows down, emails get relatively shorter, and may even cease for long periods of time, but until the newness wears off I pray the recipient doesn't freak out too much. 

It was such a fun experience re-connecting with this woman I thought maybe I need to be less isolated and make myself more available to other past associates? I've had a Facebook account for a couple years, but it's been functioning in the highly private "only me" mode. For a while I was using it for news feeds from my favorite websites, but I have been ignoring it for the last couple years as my blog functions in the same way.

I logged into Facebook to have a look and my brother's girlfriend had friended me. My brother recently told me his girlfriend complained and wondered why I hated her. I was baffled and since my brother thinks computers are the Devil and knows nothing about them, he thought I blocked her emails or something. Now I know she somehow circumvented all my privacy options and found me on Facebook. She has been waiting for months (?) for me to accept her friend request. No wonder she's pissed.

Hmmm...I admit I am social-media resistant especially to Facebook. In my opinion it uses the concept of a computer virus to spread disingenuous friendship to desperate people with low self-esteem. Would it provide any meaningful connections? If I go public maybe old friends can find me and want to converse? What happen to the concept of pen pals anyway? I want a pen pal!

I updated my Facebook information and plumped it up with favorite movies, books, TV shows, and general likes. It was very self-centered and it reminded me of when we, as identity-deprived teenagers, used to invent and fill out those favorite things questionnaires. I added some photos of art to splash in some color and personalize it. Although I didn't add any private photos of people, even adding art felt like a violation of privacy. My eagerness to connect inspired me to be brave and venture forth.

I started with one friend. Just one (1), but one I knew I liked with whom I shared similar interests. The program kept reminding me I had ONE friend like a huge neon sign. Taunting me. This did not make me feel loved nor connected. In fact it made me feel like worthless crap. There is something very hypnotic about the numbers.

Suddenly I wanted MORE friends, regardless of whether they were real friends or not, so I started adding distant relatives and acquaintances, including my brother's girlfriend.  Facebook is designed to feed one's self-esteem. We want to feel loved, liked, and connected, even if it's just a number.

Before I knew it I had my own very small stable of trophy friends who were posting positive affirmations, computer game scores, computer game invites, photos of desserts, and videos of babies and animals doing cute things. It reminded me of when email first became popular and everyone was forwarding mindless affirmation chain letters and we'd all get the same illustrated joke twenty times a day. Even then I didn't want to play. Obviously someone invented a way to harness all that brainless forwarding only now it's called sharing. Like kindergarten.

Everything has a like button. I liked the posts, photos, and comments of others, and in response, they liked mine. We liked each other. It should have done wonders for my self-esteem, but it felt like back in grade school when it was very important for classmates to like you. I felt rebellious and angry. If no one liked my post was it bad? Fuck you, people, it was certainly likeable! Why did they like that photo but not like that photo? Fuck you, people, that photo is just as good! Am I that insecure that I need this constant validation?  It felt so wrong. So judgmental yet impersonal. All they were doing was clicking on an icon. I know everyone meant well and was doing exactly what was expected to make me feel welcome and liked. This is what one does with Facebook, yet I felt so violated and manipulated. It was stressful.

I kept questioning if I was feeling this way because I'm so isolated. Am I just reclusive and anti-social? Am I just not good at playing this social game? Probably all of the above. Posts limited to mere phrases offered very little in the way of conversing opportunities. This was disappointing. I'm not interested in superficial connections. Heck, I feel more connected to people when I make anonymous comments on an article. Even when I get a thumbs-down for my opinions! I backed away from Facebook by reinstating more privacy options. I stopped friending people and unfollowed many.

I was told by my Facebook mentors to concentrate on the benefits, ignore the irritating, and to remember why I activated the account in the first place: to be more accessible to old friends. In addition I should lower my expectations to non-conversational, short-attention-spanned, self-centered, old friends. This, of course, makes me question the point, and while I'm questioning the point, Facebook is still bullying me with People You May Know because they believe it IS really about the numbers.

Just when I felt the whole horrible experience had been a waste of time one of my ex-best friends from junior high friended me! This was someone I haven't had any contact with for nearly a lifetime so you can imagine my shock and delight. She claimed she had been searching for me for years although I find it hard to believe since I do have a web presence. I think she had been limiting her search to just Facebook, and suddenly, there I was! I was so excited to be found as if I never existed before! (Shit. No...Facebook does NOT define me!) I sent her a chat message and she sent a short chat reply saying she'd email. That was it. No conversation. No catching up. I anxiously waited for connection to happen. I guess I'm just a trophy friend, just another number. It's been over two weeks and we've not connected at all. I'm sure she's very busy keeping tabs on her 453 friends who make her feel very liked.  She doesn't have time. Very disappointing.

I'm not finding Facebook meaningful, but I have hope maybe there is someone out there who wants to converse and they will find me. Until then, I have my blog, a place I can talk to myself and write as much as I want.

I love my blog.

Note: Thank you to those who do allow me to email you constantly. You have no idea how much it means to me.