On (Post-)Social Dread, And How to Get Through It
The Aftermath
Intrinsically, we all seem to know there is a finite amount of people you get to meet in a lifetime. Yet somehow, maybe due to the spectacular surveillance society we’ve made for ourselves on the Internet, this knowledge becomes elusive – the world is your oyster, and there are infinite possibilities! You can connect with anyone, anywhere, and that’s supposed to be a good thing! Here’s the catch: implicitly, it is your personal responsibility to make your social interactions matter. No matter the sphere they take place in, it is on you to ensure they mean something. It may take two to tango, but navigating the social puddle feels like a solo gig, with everyone wearing swimming sleeves, splashing their arms cluelessly, clinging onto hopes of remaining afloat. What no one prepared me for, is that your social capabilities are a basin, and each actor introduced is a drop that goes in. You watch the convex meniscus form, and at some point you blink and don’t realize it’s begun to overflow. (This feels like a lot of water-related similes and metaphors, so I apologize if you suddenly have to pee reading this. Hopefully there’s a restroom in your vicinity.) What I’m getting at: meet one person too many and things go wrong.
I don’t mean that in a logistical sense. This is not about time, or ability to commit, or even keeping track of names. This is about the gradual loss of the means to function properly (according to you) in social settings. It’s something separate from being socially awkward as a default (there’s also nothing wrong with that). It’s about the shift that occurs - up until this breaking point, you seemed to know your ways around people, and it’s like this comprehension has been taken away from you - without prior notice! And I get that among discussions of struggling with alienation and risks of becoming isolated, having too many people involved in your life in any capacity sounds like a First World problem. And it is. I still want to bring it up.
Early adulthood is the nothing matters/everything matters paradox. It’s social make or break – but mostly without the foresight into what awaits you along the cause-effect chain. You have constructed versions of you, both willingly and not, that are adequate for specific dynamics and you’ve been alive for long enough to get comfortable in them. So what happens when you seemingly know enough about yourself to anticipate all the nuanced ways you rub shoulders with certain types of people, and get a bit cocky with it? Events. Events happen.
One stranger-and-acquaintance-filled house party too many and suddenly you forget everything you’ve come to learn about yourself. You try to tap into the different aspects of your personality but they all start to blur. You’re no longer aware of which version of yourself to put forward, you have to act and adjust quickly and memory becomes inaccessible. You try your best. Deceptively, it comes to you that either way, you’re being yourself, so it shouldn’t matter which self that is. You make it through. There is no space in the moment to reflect on any of this. And then you leave.
Once the adrenaline rush dissipates, flashes of the immediate past take over. You don’t know whether you played matchmaker with your alternative selves correctly. That one cluster would have preferred the silly you but you unknowingly gave them the serious one. Or was it the other way round? Did that one acquaintance realize you were just teasing in a fond way or did you make that call too soon? What if someone you placed in a compartment tagged “friendly” has got you locked up in their “stranger-danger” section? Your heartbeat quickens slightly, there’s a tremble brewing within and you let out involuntary sighs. You want to bury your head in the sand but you know it’s too late for that – you’ve already been caught in the people’s intricate social web en passant, there were too many witnesses and some of them you are fated/doomed to encounter again, maybe even on a regular basis. This isn’t your everyday overthinking. This has potential for developing into a full-on identity crisis. Very quickly you’ve managed to convince yourself that whatever you did or didn’t do has resulted in an entire plethora of people not wanting to have anything to do with you anymore. And simultaneously, you grasp that breaking all this down on a cellular level is far from helpful and only makes matters worse.
This is especially hard to admit if you pride yourself on being generally unbothered. At some point growing up, I have decided that the person who I’d like to become will be able to speak to a) anyone, about, b) anything, without, c) fear of being judged and being judgemental towards others. I like to think this has been working out quite well for me, as I’ve never really dreaded being amongst other people. That’s why it’s puzzling to reckon where this spike of post-social insecurity stems from. Is it because of the inherent need to belong, which laid dormant until the culture imposed a suppressing of sincerity? Or is it that you now see the basin overflowing, recognizing the facades you created prove futile in serving their purpose as they crumble under pressure?
This might be the time to accept that, for the rest of your life, you might have to offer and take “yourself” at face value. Just don’t look in the mirror for too long in case it gets unsettling. It’s not just me, it’s everybody. But is it? Really?
When You’re in It - A Note From The Editor:
Dear reader,
It is everybody (barring potentially the worst people you have ever met) who suffer from this kind of anxiety. Whilst most of us would rather be at Cheers (where everybody knows your name) or watching Cheers (alone) new social settings are filled with potential for growth. But, as a PSA, here are some tips for attending a party.
It’s all in your head. The writer of this article recently attended an evening gathering I hosted - she was very charming and made a great impression. Everyone else at these things is too busy thinking these things about themselves to be thinking of you - so go forth!
Be kind, ask questions. Enthusiasm is underrated. “So how do you know (host’s name)”.
Know the dangers of bringing a +1. Sometimes it's necessary, but people seem to go to Thailand alone for a reason. Travel light, be flexible. You don’t always want to have to worry about the two friends you brought when you have enough social plates spinning as is
The more you do it, the easier it becomes. Our social skills are muscles, and you Gen Z teenagers were forced to skip gym class. Just stick at it - as much as it pains me, most social interactions with strangers will be a little painful. And even if a conversation is a little strained, it may still be important (Where do you think people find houses, boyfriends, jobs, tennis partners).
You’ll find new people with whom interactions are not painful at all. Will make it worth it.
Know when it’s time to cut. As someone suffering with the infliction of loving to hang, I often find myself outstaying my own welcome. I would recommend knowing what time to get out - not too early, not too late.
