Are You On Instagram?

Biting into my sandwich, I began to chew, despite the choking sensation I was feeling. I should have made it lighter, less slices of cheese perhaps, but then again how sparse can a sandwich be before it’s just bread on bread? I forced it down with a small sip of the bottled water brought from home. 

Watching my coworkers casually chat at the Keurig, I heard the whoosh of the machine as the aroma swirled around the room, trying its best to tempt me. The journey across the small room through the mingling employees kept me seated despite my desire to try the latest K-cups. Maybe I would indulge in a small variety box for myself to see what they tasted like, explore which were most enjoyable. I can place an order online at the endless land of opportunity known as Amazon.

Sitting alone at the sticky table, I felt both relieved and awkward until a group of women came in and joined me. I knew them casually from the department at the other end of the floor. This would be okay, I thought, glancing at the clock. My lunch break was more than halfway over, I could finish up quickly and return to my cubicle.

“Excited for tomorrow? You have to let me know what to bring.” Tupperware containers and plastic utensils clattered onto the round table as I moved my uneaten sandwich aside.

“Please just bring yourself. I have way too much already. We’ll have leftovers for a week.” The easy banter continued.

“Do you have a gut feeling? Boy or girl? What’s your guess?”

“I keep going back and forth. I don’t know. We’ll see tomorrow when that balloon pops.” Kate placed her hands on her belly, beaming at the group.

“I can’t wait!”

The women glanced over at me, a tiny blip of silence hanging in the air.

I placed one hand under the table gripping the edge of the cold metal chair and waited.

“You got the evite to the reveal party, right, Jenny?” 

All eyes turned to me. Although I did see it in my inbox weeks ago, I chose to leave it unopened. I imagined the guests gathered around, coffee and cake perched on laps comparing stories of childbirth and beyond. The host would think I hadn’t received it if I didn’t open it. I knew how these evites worked, keeping track of all clicks. I could be surprised having missed it on Monday, showing my feigned disappointment. 

Feeling a flush come on, I blurted out, “I’m so sorry I can’t make it. I have plans this weekend that I can’t get out of.” I glanced down at the remains of my lunch knowing it would go into the garbage despite the slight hunger that lingered.

“The old ball and chain. We really have to meet your husband soon.” The women laughed good naturedly. They were a pleasant group, I realized. Maybe one day I would actually join them in their never-ending social events. 

“Yes, we have to get together.” I smiled and rose from my place at the table, gathering my belongings. “In the meantime, I hope the party is amazing. Show me pictures on Monday?” I tucked the metal chair in, grimacing as it scraped against the floor, before turning to step away.

“I’ll post them over the weekend. Are you on Instagram?” 

I froze. Social media. The endless stream of photos and comments was too much for me, made my head spin. The only way to cope with it was to stay away from it. How would I explain this? My feet grew roots spreading deep into the floor. I was unable to move, could not escape. Would today be the day I had a panic attack at work? I fought so hard against the constant threat. “Just make it through the day” had become my mantra. 

I thought of the Instagram account I had set up in the past, attempting to join in, keep up with the Joneses. When was the last time I had posted anything? Did I dare go back, fluff it up, add some pictures? Of what? My thoughts raced. I had to answer, I had to say something. Am I on Instagram?

“I am,” I stammered, hearing the rush of blood in my ears, my mouth becoming dry as sandpaper.

The sparse display of photos depicting my lonely life marched past my mind’s eye like a parade that no one knew existed. Caught in a candid shot at my sister’s wedding, watching the celebration from the table abandoned for the dance floor, left with name cards and empty seats. Stark beauty of the season’s first snowfall as I made my way through the trail in perfect silence and solitude. The bestseller ordered from Amazon, then hastily opting out of the book club meeting, choosing instead the online discussion. These photos, these memories, like floats in the unseen parade with an empty sidewalk to cheer me on.

Could I share those moments with these dynamic women? Their poise made me feel like a clumsy fool, amplifying everything I was not, could never be.

Still standing in silence with all eyes boring into me, I tried to continue, “You can find me at … “

I can delete my account, claiming to have been hacked, leaving my privacy intact. 

The roaring in my ears was deafening. The back and forth internal dialogue closed the channel to the outside, blocking any words from finding their way out. The unyielding attention was unbearable as I became keenly aware that my endless pause grew more and more unsettling. How long can one remain frozen until it’s inappropriate, all respect lost for the sufferer? Despite my best efforts, my inner self threatened to appear and show me as an outcast, revealing the true misfit that I was.

Just then a burst of laughter from the back corner popped the nightmare bubble as all eyes turned away as one. Taking advantage, I fled.

***

Back in the safety of my cubicle I sat quietly recovering, thankful for the walls separating me from the masses. Turning on the computer monitor, I brought up an email in an attempt to appear engrossed in work for those passing by behind me. I stared unseeing at the words in front of me, thoughts still ricocheting around haphazardly, matched by my erratic heartbeat.

Bits and pieces of conversation floated around, hovered over me, calming me down. Not feeling left out but rather finally comfortable in my invisibility. 

I recalled the comment about the ball and chain, my husband. I hadn’t said specifically what my plans were and was relieved they filled in the blanks for themselves rather than pressing me for details.

***

Closing my apartment door behind me, I exhaled, relief finally washing over me. The painful tightness in my neck and shoulders eased as I allowed my muscles to unclench. The tinges of an oncoming headache dissipated.

Removing the simple gold band, I placed it on my nightstand and glanced over at my pillows placed neatly in the center of my bed. I changed into the clothes left hanging on the hook in anticipation of the restful weekend. Thinking of that sparse tasteless lunch I had choked down, I opened the refrigerator, taking out the dinner I had prepared for myself before leaving for work.

My thoughts went back to the ball and chain remark. It was fine that they assumed the ball and chain was a husband. They didn’t need to know the actual ball and chain was my social anxiety.