This is my life.
Who among us feels safe revealing ourselves to others? My guess is, not many. Why then do I feel so uninhibited in that regard? Is it odd? First, I would like to clear one thing up: I’m not talking about revealing myself in a physical sense. Some metaphors should never be encouraged, especially those that may give the wrong idea. I would no sooner physically reveal myself in public than soak my hair in acetone and put a match to it. And just to be absolutely clear, I am neither a masochist nor pyromaniac. No, I’m taking about something that is perhaps even more intimate: revealing who I am and what I think. It seems like many people go around denying who they are to themselves, meanwhile I’m telling everyone I talk to. Pity the person who asks me “how are you doing?” at work. What was probably meant as a casual greeting is met with way more honesty than many can deal with on a Monday morning. I saddle my coworkers with any and every issue in my life, and I do it without shame. It’s not just my coworkers, I don’t know why I’m singling them out. It’s everyone I have more than a passing acquaintance with. I get this sense that I’m giving way more information than they wanted, but then I go on anyway. Do you know what the irony of all this is? I don’t consider myself an outgoing person. I meet new acquaintances with anxiety, with an unhealthy need to impress. Is my self esteem really that low? And here I am, pouring this out for anyone to read. Not that there is much danger that I will suffer to much exposure here. Anyway, here I am, wrapped up nice and warm in my own contradictions. I tell myself that I don’t really care what you think, but the reality is that I probably care a little too much.
. . . or have I typed all of this just because I like the rhythm of my fingers dancing on the keyboard?