Words
I always imagined myself to be the kind of person who becomes extremely quiet when nervous, almost on the verge of mutism. And, I guess, in many situations, that is true. If I'm around a large group of people, especially if the majority of those people are strangers to me, I tend to find it difficult to hold a conversation, mostly because I lack the confidence to make myself heard.
Saying that, I'm not completely hopeless. Coming from a noisy household with three brothers and having a number of male friends means that I can handle the 'one of the lads' routine, in terms of the loudness and the joking around. I've even picked up a bit of an ability to 'banter', as the kids say! I wouldn't call myself the life of the party, but I get by, as long as I'm comfortable around the people I'm with. It's mainly when it comes to family gatherings or work dos that I keep schtum. (That's a technical term. Schtum).
I always expected the same kind of thing to happen all the time, particularly if I were to be nervous around just one other person. I thought I'd struggle to even get a small noise out, let alone form coherent sentences. Apparently, I was wrong.
It seems that it doesn't take long before nerves generate more words than I thought I was capable of speaking. I seem to jump from one topic to another, making random comments about them before moving on again. I babble on, my sentences running away with themselves and hardly letting me pause for breath. Even though short intervals allow me to wonder what on Earth I'm banging on about, they aren't nearly long enough for me to slap myself in the face or sew my mouth shut. And the television references - my goodness! I lose count of how many times I manage to spout Doctor Who quotes in one conversation. It's like my brain resides in an altogether fictional world, only visiting reality for a few hours per day. I get annoyed at myself for all of this, but I don't seem to be able to stop myself, so I often wonder how I don't make ears fall off with it.
So when a time comes along when it really matters, I don't understand why I can't find the words I want to say. I'll know the gist of what I mean, and I'll know what I'm feeling, but when I try and vocalise it, it just doesn't work. I can never find the right phrasing that will allow the other person to completely understand what I'm thinking. It's so frustrating because what I do say either comes out wrong or just doesn't seem to convey the meaning clearly enough. Sometimes things end up being left unsaid, purely because I'm too nervous about saying them, or worry that because I don't know how to say them, it might lead to a misunderstanding.
Perhaps, as always, that's what it comes down to: nerves.
It's well known now that I worry a hell of a lot about all sorts of things, including what I say to people. I've been told that I shouldn't worry about what I say, but I always do, I can't help it.
I don't want to tell someone something and have them think I'm weird or that I'm being too... Oh, I don't know... too much...? Ugh. (See? I'm even struggling now!)
Of course it's only later on, when I'm on my own and having some thinking time, that I replay and rework the conversation in my head and think 'Ah! That's it! That's exactly what I wanted to say!'
I think that's why I like written forms of communication so much; it gives me time to really think about my responses before sending them, to contemplate exactly what I want to say and how I want to say it. When I'm talking to someone face-to-face, I struggle to verbalise what I'm thinking on the spot. It's only when it's too late that I can finally find the words.
And of course, as a (wannabe) writer, I can understand the power of words. Now I need to master the art of using that power when it's needed.
Blah.
"...Say the right words with the right emphasis, at the right time… Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them. You can change people’s minds just with words..." - The Doctor; Doctor Who; S3, Ep2; 'The Shakespeare Code'.
Saying that, I'm not completely hopeless. Coming from a noisy household with three brothers and having a number of male friends means that I can handle the 'one of the lads' routine, in terms of the loudness and the joking around. I've even picked up a bit of an ability to 'banter', as the kids say! I wouldn't call myself the life of the party, but I get by, as long as I'm comfortable around the people I'm with. It's mainly when it comes to family gatherings or work dos that I keep schtum. (That's a technical term. Schtum).
I always expected the same kind of thing to happen all the time, particularly if I were to be nervous around just one other person. I thought I'd struggle to even get a small noise out, let alone form coherent sentences. Apparently, I was wrong.
It seems that it doesn't take long before nerves generate more words than I thought I was capable of speaking. I seem to jump from one topic to another, making random comments about them before moving on again. I babble on, my sentences running away with themselves and hardly letting me pause for breath. Even though short intervals allow me to wonder what on Earth I'm banging on about, they aren't nearly long enough for me to slap myself in the face or sew my mouth shut. And the television references - my goodness! I lose count of how many times I manage to spout Doctor Who quotes in one conversation. It's like my brain resides in an altogether fictional world, only visiting reality for a few hours per day. I get annoyed at myself for all of this, but I don't seem to be able to stop myself, so I often wonder how I don't make ears fall off with it.
So when a time comes along when it really matters, I don't understand why I can't find the words I want to say. I'll know the gist of what I mean, and I'll know what I'm feeling, but when I try and vocalise it, it just doesn't work. I can never find the right phrasing that will allow the other person to completely understand what I'm thinking. It's so frustrating because what I do say either comes out wrong or just doesn't seem to convey the meaning clearly enough. Sometimes things end up being left unsaid, purely because I'm too nervous about saying them, or worry that because I don't know how to say them, it might lead to a misunderstanding.
Perhaps, as always, that's what it comes down to: nerves.
It's well known now that I worry a hell of a lot about all sorts of things, including what I say to people. I've been told that I shouldn't worry about what I say, but I always do, I can't help it.
I don't want to tell someone something and have them think I'm weird or that I'm being too... Oh, I don't know... too much...? Ugh. (See? I'm even struggling now!)
Of course it's only later on, when I'm on my own and having some thinking time, that I replay and rework the conversation in my head and think 'Ah! That's it! That's exactly what I wanted to say!'
I think that's why I like written forms of communication so much; it gives me time to really think about my responses before sending them, to contemplate exactly what I want to say and how I want to say it. When I'm talking to someone face-to-face, I struggle to verbalise what I'm thinking on the spot. It's only when it's too late that I can finally find the words.
And of course, as a (wannabe) writer, I can understand the power of words. Now I need to master the art of using that power when it's needed.
Blah.
"...Say the right words with the right emphasis, at the right time… Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them. You can change people’s minds just with words..." - The Doctor; Doctor Who; S3, Ep2; 'The Shakespeare Code'.
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| Shaggy - Scooby Doo 2: Monsters Unleashed |
Wise words...
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