Turning Weaknesses into Strenghts

Turning weaknesses into strengths is what I urge you to do, and that’s what I’m doing with these posts, or rather, these random thoughts foisted as scientific truths. You know Mina and the late Battisti who never showed up for their own reasons? Well, the more they were hidden, the more their cachet increased. Now, I’m neither Mina nor Battisti, I also have a tin ear, but I think that, maybe, being holed up, communicating only through a blog, can help me build a “mysterious and intriguing” character capable of dazzling readers. Yes … yes, right. In the meantime, I try, because it is the only thing I can do. Do it too, transform your shyness into reserve, your fear into modesty, your silence into grace, into sensitivity, into intuition. Outside there are many noises and you, on the other hand, gather in the center of yourself to listen to the music of the heart. (Violins in the background.)

***

Any other fear is an excuse not to face the greatest fear, that of going out, taking your life in hand and driving it somewhere. Yeah, drive. Another sore point. Most social phobics (sorry, socially anxious) do not have a driving license (like myself) or do have one but do not drive. Driving would mean taking charge of yourself, not depending on others, not having a chaperone who accompanies you everywhere, giving direction to your existence. All things that make us shiver. We prefer the Stygian swamp, we prefer the mud that envelops us, we prefer hell.

***

Still talking about phobias that add up, I’ll tell you mine. Having had a domineering and castrating mother, a strict, rigid and hypercritical father, I developed a total aversion to authority. I wouldn’t really call it a phobia, rather an inability to submit. So I hate checks, inspections, the request to show documents, searches, metal detectors, checkpoints. It goes without saying that I was sued for insulting a public official and that, at the Istanbul airport, they almost arrested me. If you put someone in front of me in a uniform who, with a kind but still authoritarian attitude, demands something from me, my amygdala is set in motion, what Goleman calls “neuronal sequestration” is triggered. I no longer see, I lose the light of reason. I become like a cat that the vet wants to give the 18th injection in a row. Such a stately little person turns into a longshoreman capable only of shouting bad words at the astonished representative of the law.

It is a question of the cerebellum, of neuronal responses that come from the depths of the hypothalamus. You may get preventive autogenic training, the beast goes wild every time.

Only repeated exposure (just call it self-managed behavior therapy if it makes you feel cooler) allowed me to get back on the plane and now, if they don’t touch me, if they don’t put their hands on me, at least I pass the metal without too much anguish. But until I am on the other side, until I have reached the saving gate, I do not feel free and calm. If there is anyone among you to whom the same thing happens, well, I’d like to know. Who knows if this has to do with the social anxiety, or is it just one more heck of a problem?

***

I have noticed from experience that many socialphobics of great intelligence and ability are, however, terribly inconclusive. Wasted talents, people who fool around and mull over instead of solving. You ask them to do something, they tell you yes because they can’t say no, and months go by, then years. Why, I ask, by being able to avoid it, do you thus increase your already immense feelings of guilt?

I am the opposite, and even that is not good. I am so anxious that, even before you ask me something, I have already done it and, perhaps, I did it in a hurry and badly to get rid of it, not to say the fateful NO. I have a total congenital inability to stall or put it off. It seems that this is not activism, it is not reliability and seriousness, but pure, authentic, laziness. I hate struggling so much that I want to get rid of the thought as soon as possible and allay the anxiety. Who notices it, then tends to take advantage of it.

Here a doubt arises: how much of our chronic fear, over the years, becomes just laziness? And how much of what we don’t do we end up not even liking anymore? As we get older we learn to give up, and by giving up we get used to the shortcomings, we resign ourselves and suffer less. Age gives security, of course. That hat that, phobic or non-phobic, when you are young you would never, ever wear, at 53 you put it on without even looking yourself in the mirror. But the weaknesses that are accepted as kids become pathetic in menopause, when the phobia explodes on the supermarket ladder and you no longer know where to look, like a 13-year-old kid.

***

Learning to understand what we like and admitting to ourselves that we deserve some pleasures is a very difficult task. But you have to get it done, for your own good. By dint of sacrificing ourselves so as not to make a bad impression, not to appear self-centered (mind you, I am not talking about authentic altruism, just wanting to be fair at all costs) we end up not understanding what we would really like to do. Here, train yourself to choose, at least inside you. Not in general but right now. Do you want fish or meat, the sea or the mountains, the bus or the bicycle, spaghetti or pizza, cinema or television? Even if you won’t get what you want, even if you won’t even ask for it and keep the test results for you, it is important to know your true wishes. And also say some firm no, albeit polite, become assertive: “No, I’m sorry, I really don’t want to do this. Or, not today, maybe another time, in other conditions, but not today.” At the cost of arousing astonishment and disapproval in those who have always heard you say yes, in those who take it for granted that you say yes. This does not mean transforming yourself into hateful egoists, only expecting respect for your needs as well, setting limits beyond which others know they should not pass .

And, anyway, if something doesn’t harm anyone, why not do it? Why not get up and close the window if a draft is freezing your neck in the waiting room? Why not get another canapé from the buffet? If there is plenty of it for everyone, why stay in a corner with a foaming mouth? Who will judge you for this? And, even if they do, what harm can it cause? Is there the death penalty for those who take the second tart?

***

What is the limit between social anxiety and asociality? I hear many say that if they did not have the anxiety to block them, they would be outgoing. And I too, it will seem strange to you, from the Rorschach test — that of the spots, to understand — turned out to be anything but introverted. It is that, as we get used to being alone, the fear of others slowly becomes boredom of others. The ringing phone doesn’t just create anxiety, it really breaks your balls, especially if your favorite program is on. Here too, as with laziness, I think it is a fact of age. Over time the young girl, eager to be in company, to confide in her friends and be part of the pack, turns into a lonely, sour and leathery old woman.

***

And now, when the time has come to say goodbye to you, I am speaking to you, in fact, of the dismissal. I don’t know if it’s just my problem, but when it comes to detaching myself from people I never know how to do it and I feel abrupt and terse. I would like to leave, I’m on my toes, I would do anything to make the interview end and, instead, the other lingers, never stops with pleasantries and starts the conversation all over again, as in a stupid loop.

So I’m trying to learn mimesis: I mimic the others, like a boorish diner who doesn’t know which fork to use. At the moment of the terrible greeting, instead of cutting off sharply creating embarrassment, I repeat the ritual stammering, or the hateful “bye … bye … bye … bye eh … bye, a kiss, a big kiss, bye, see you soon, bye … bye…” And what the hell! Isn’t a single hello enough?

Oh well, from now on I will do like humans, I will cheerfully “byeing” you too.