I would have just left it like that, but that title would now be misleading. I didn't have a very good time at all. Lots of things happened that evening—my head was all over the place, especially towards the end—but few of them were any fun.
I went to the party with a positive mindset, as the photo should demonstrate. I wanted to go to this thing; I'd been looking forward to it for ages. "Finally, a chance to meet new people! I should take advantage and meet as many people as I can." I was greeted by the guy whose birthday it was, and I wished him a happy birthday. So far, so good. I walked into the house and sat on the lounge with my mum. I wanted to go outside and sit with the birthday boy's friends, but my nerves quickly started to act up. How would I introduce myself? How would I join the conversation? I didn't know, so I wasn't prepared to move.
More of the guy's friends came, and I eventually said "fuck it" and went outside. I was introduced to the group as a whole, and left to my own devices. The birthday-boy told me "just talk to 'em; they won't bite." Why do people say this? It's non-advice. It's like telling someone who's choking to "just breathe! That'll help :)". No shit I need to talk to them—how do I talk to them? What do I talk to them about? I need logistics here, man.
And that's where I failed: I had no clue what to say to the people I was seated near. I tried to listen to what they were saying, but I had absoultely no idea what they were on about. They seemed to be sharing personal anecdotes, things I had no chance of relating to. There was a second partition of people across from me talking about other things, and I wondered if I'd have more luck with them, but there were no free seats over there, so I couldn't relocate. After about 10 minutes of trying to bear the unrelateable stories being discussed, I couldn't stand it anymore and pulled my phone out. I would normally feel guilty for recluding into my shell like that, but at this point, it was either 'look busy on my phone' or 'look totally awkward and excluded'. So I sat there playing Super Mario Bros. 3 for a bit, while the people around me conversed.
At some point, a girl behind me said "Is that a Mario app on your phone?" I was like "yeah, it's an app that lets you play old games." She asked what the app was, where I got it from, how to get the games, etc., and I tried to explain to the best of my ability. She seemed genuinely interested in what I was doing, if only for a short while before someone else got her attention. No one is allowed to tell me that playing games on my phone is counter-productive ever again :P I wondered if I should have asked the girl questions, like if she was interested in old games, if she liked other Mario games, or something, but I she started talking to someone else so fast that I didn't have time to think of that. That was also the only conversation I really had before cake was served—in between the girl and the cake, I hardly lifted my head, bouncing from Super Mario Bros. to Minesweeper to Mario Kart 64. I was bored, but I wasn't sad: the party was far from over.
Eventually, it was cake time. I was given the duty of photographer, so I took pictures of the speeches and the cake, which was easy enough. After that, I was told to take pictures of the rest of the party, of the birthday-boy's friends. I was nervous at the very thought of having to ask people I didn't know to have their picture taken, but I also knew I couldn't really just walk around taking random pictures cos that would look weird and creepy, not to mention the pictures wouldn't be very good. I went up to the other group of people, the ones who were across from me before cake was served, figuring I'd have more luck there. I stood there with the camera in my hand, just looking at it, going "what the fuck am I supposed to do? They're all talking! I can't interrupt them: that's rude." I seriously cannot shake the idea that stopping a conversation, even for 10 seconds, isn't appropriate. I don't know why—I know if I was interrupted, especially if only for 10 seconds, I wouldn't give a shit—but I can't bring myself to do it, especially when I don't know the people I'm going to interrupt. I can even picture myself doing it, but actually doing it is just impossible. Friends? Sure, I can interrupt them, even if I mull over it in my head for a while. But strangers? Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope.
I did have some luck in the new spot, though, though. Birthday-boy's girlfriend saw me standing around and decided to talk to me, which was nice. We talked about what we studied, where we worked (or where she worked and how I was looking for work), what we did in our spare time... you know, things that I can actually talk about! But that five-minute talk was the only conversation I managed to engage in; I spent the rest of the time either trying to listen to and understand what the others were talking about, or playing Sudoku on my phone, gradually growing more impatient, uncomfortable, and inadequate. After about half an hour, I couldn't take it anymore, and went inside to sit by myself.
I pulled out my phone again to try and write my feelings down, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I was on the verge of crying, but managed to merely sulk. I sat there, thinking about all the things I said I wanted to do—meet people, make a friend or two, flirt with a girl, etc.—and felt awful realising how short of achieving my goals I had fallen. I wanted a friend to talk to, someone my age who'd hold my hand and listen, but there was no one to fill that gap. I would have texted a friend of mine, but I didn't know if she was at work or not, so I didn't risk it. It could also have blown through my credit, and I don't have the money to waste replenishing it when I have free avenues of communication. This is one of the few times having data on my phone would actually have been useful :P
In many ways, I was envious of the people around me. They were all the same in most respects: they all knew each other, they all drank, they all had cool stories, and they were all confident. There were no exceptions, not one: every single person my age who was there, bar me, had each of those qualities. I know it's not a good idea to compare one's personality to that of others in a hierarchical fashion—in terms of who's 'better' and who's 'worse'—but I couldn't fight it given the overwhelming relevance of the differences, because they were the things preventing me from joining in. If I knew these people, I'd have no problems talking to them. If I drank, I could drink with them and be relaxed. If I had cool stories (cool to them, I mean), I'd feel like I had something worth saying. And if I was confident, none of this nonsense would be happening to me at all. I was even told by the girl who walked up to me and spoke to me to me that I didn't look my age. That kinda sealed the deal for me: not to rehash phrases from Advanced English, but I simply did not belong there. I didn't look like I belonged there, I didn't feel like I belonged there, and I couldn't act like I belonged there. So I got out of there.
My mum saw me sitting alone and tried to talk to me about it. She was drunk, though, so she was talking all kinds of nonsense. Her concern was genuine, but the conversation was depressing as fuck, so it didn't really help much. The mother of the birthday boy (who's close friends with my mum) more-or-less did the same thing, talking about why social things were so hard for me, though she was a little less drunk and a little more rational. They were talking to me for so long that I eventually just wanted to go home and sleep. Once I got home, I immediately curled up into bed. I cried a little, but was too tired to do it for very long.
This morning, I woke up and tried to process everything that happened. The usual feelings of wanting to just give up on this crap and 'turn off' social/romantic desires came around, but I managed to subdue those feelings fairly quickly.
In venting to the friend I mentioned earlier, I managed to realise that, like most social things, this was a learning experience. It was a fucking awful learning experience, but it was still a learning experience. What did I learn? Sometimes, the people you're hanging with simply aren't for you. I was a round peg in a square hole. That, and I evidently don't do well when absolutely everyone is a stranger, and my one connection to the party isn't that strong a connection to begin with. My goals ended up being way out of reach due to circumstances I could not foresee. Now that I know that there may be situations in which I simply can't work too well, I can lower my goals based on the presence of such conditions in the future.
It's not as if I don't like parties like this: I went to a birthday party not two months ago which was similar in terms of the number of people present, but I had no problem fitting in because I knew people. There were strangers, too, but there were only a few of them, so it was easy to deal with. I did great at that party: I felt good and didn't feel like I was irritating, obnoxious, worthless, or anything like that. I don't even think it would have mattered if alcohol was present, because I still would have known the people who would've been drinking, and there would have been at least a few people who weren't drinking. But this particular party was totally different in terms of its demographic, so it doesn't make sense for it to work out the same way.
In retrospect, I believe body language may have been a contributing factor too. When I'm out and about, I'm not too aware of how discontent I usually look; but one look in the mirror makes it quite clear. I'm basically one level below what I think I am—if I think I'm neutral, I look ticked off; and if I think I'm smiling a little bit, I look neutral. What I think I look like only starts to line up with what I actually look like when I'm smiling rather definitively. But my default face is definitely offputting—my mum often asks "What's wrong?" when I'm not sad or angry about anything. If the people at this party were seeing this particular face (which wouldn't surprise me given how unengaged I was), it may have put them off interacting in the first place. This is something I can improve on, certainly, but I don't think it would have been a game-changer at this particular event: there were too many other variables making interaction futile. And I'm not going to get mad at myself for something like this; that is counter-productive. This can simply be the next thing I practice.
I also saw some neat advice on r/socialskills that I want to take to heart. It said "don't be yourself; be who you want to be". I've always thought "just be yourself" is fucking stupid advice because everyone is themselves, and it does not encourage change. I've been myself for 20 years; it hasn't gotten me many friends, much interest from women, or a job. But if I be who I want to be—more confident, more outgoing, more willing to take risks—then I can earn those things while still being myself. And this is part of the reason why I'm so fucking game to get on-stage at uni: because when I do stand-up, I am all those things. When I'm comfortable, I have far more social potency, and there's nowhere I'm more comfortable than doing what I know I'm good at. If I put myself where I want to be, I will become who I want to be.
Who I want to be even came across in those initial two paragraphs I wrote before leaving for the party. I was happy to be going, I prepared myself as best I could (save for the poor sleep, lol), and I even said I wanted to flirt. And I don't want be confident/outgoing/flirtatious because other people my age are; I only get envious of their being those things because it makes me feel like I'm supposed to have those skills already. I want to be those things because I know they'll make my life better. Being confident will lead to me taking more risks and experiencing new things, being more outgoing will allow me to meet new people (ties in with the confidence thing to a large degree), and being more flirtatious will allow me to fulfil my dreams of getting a girlfriend and/or getting laid. I know I like how it feels when I take risks, I know I'm happy when I'm doing well in conversations, and I know I feel amazing when I'm with a woman, so that's what I'm gunning for: better feelings, not better conformity.
Having both now written this thing, I can safely say I'm not too worried about what happened. That party fuckin' sucked for me, that's for sure, but I'm not overly concerned. If anything, it allowed me to re-evaluate my parameters for what social settings I will and will not find comfortable, and highlighted some flaws in my presentation. A lot of it was just luck; there was little I could do to fit in here. And it's not like I have to see any of those people ever again, so I don't have to worry about negative repercussions. It's not like I did anything stupid, or wrong; I just took a risk and it didn't go anywhere. Maybe this apathy a good thing! Isn't this how I'd want to feel if, say, I took the risk of approaching a girl and she didn't respond that well? To acknowledge that there might have been things I did wrong which I can work on, but regardless of that, this specific negative outcome ultimately doesn't matter? I usually fret over things like this (I still think about the after-party for my Formal, and that happened over two years ago, for fuck's sake :P), but I'm pretty apathetic over what I did while I was at this party.
You know what? I'm kinda happy I did this. I'm not even neutral; I'm fucking pleased. I took a risk, and even though it didn't work, I still took it. I was told I could bring a friend to the party, so I'd be more comfortable, but I said "No. I'm not playing it safe this time." I didn't do everything I wanted to do—in fact, I did hardly anything I wanted to do—but I did do something I don't normally do, which is go into a social situation with no friends. I can now know that I've done that thing, that I weathered the storm, so to speak.
The next meetup I have with strangers features a) a personal friend, and b) his friends from an academy for computer-related things. The mere fact that there are actually commonalities between me and the other people there should make this a far better experience, so I'm still looking forward to it :)
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