Social cage

TW: suggestion of abuse, profanity

People love making false assumptions, judging people based on nothing. They think they’re intuitive when really they’re too lazy to actually figure someone out. Trust me I’ve experienced this exact notion for most of my life.  I’m basically the founder  of the “ ignorant asshole theory.”

As of right now, I’m experiencing this exact thing. My friend invited me out to a club, something so not my scene. She pleaded with me to go, spewing reasons I should attend like  “you love partying” and “c’mon you love meeting new people.” That’s like telling a  Germaphobe to go dumpster diving in the cans outside of a hospital, of course on the hottest day of the week. hot and steamy injured people garbage. Yah that’s something they’d absolutely adore. 

But of course, to keep up my on going façade, I agreed. You see, I constantly feed into the false assumptions. It’s easier that way, except for the constant inner turmoil and hidden anxiety. Obviously. 

I’ve done this many times, walked willingly into the eye of the storm.  even though I know how uncomfortable it will make me. I’ve built a Web of misconceptions and I’m stuck, my mind and body tangled in the sickly white string, they only grow tighter. I can feel one snake around my throat as I smile and nod, sipping on the revolting beverage in my hand. It was recently Bought for me from another man fooled by my well tuned tricks

The music pumps loudly, vibrating through the floor and up my already shaky legs. A crimson hue tinting the entire club, painting every dancing body a glowing red. It’s loud, so goddamn loud. Inconsistent chatter and raised voices echoing in the drunken haze. Someone’s talking to me, a man. The same man who bought my drink. I simply bat my eyelashes and contort my pretty  face to show confidence and comfort. And of course the stranger is content with his rambling and a pretty girl showing him some kind of attention. Tricked again, I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. 

Instead, my mind is preoccupied thinking of all the things I’d rather do. The exit looks more than appealing at this point, and before I know it my feet are moving. Unfortunately my Webbed snare pulls me to the dance floor, leaving the stranger behind me without another word. my lips curling into a convincing smirk, I hope. 

The friend who brought me to hell on earth waves me down. simultaneously dancing basically on top of her more than willing partner. And as suspected I went, smiling and rocking my hips to the beat, dancing wildly with a few strangers like no ones watching, like I’m the only person here. But I know  people watch me, and I know there’s a couple hundred people surrounding me. I know that all to well, I wish I didn’t. I wish I was lost in the music, in the dancing, in the drinks, in actual friendships. But I’m not my body’s doing one thing while my mind screams at me to leave, to go home. And god I want to, to go home curl up in a ball and be left alone. Alone. But I’m not alone. I’m surrounded by people, trying my best to keep up with my extroverted lies. 

I am so unbelievably uncomfortable. Although I’ve been doing this a long time, pretending I’m someone I’m not, pushing my personal boundaries countless times. 

I’m a liar and a con-artist, my mind enslaved by an unknown puppeteer.  

“Isn’t this fun!” My friends yells over the music 

No 

“Yah this is great!” I return lying through perfect pearly teeth. 

As the night sky turned many shades darker I continued to dance, to smile and nod. Remembering all the times I’ve done exactly that. why can’t I be alone, why can I not spend nights in I wonder, recalling a memory I try my best to forget. 

She sat perfectly still, trying her best not to provoke the man in front of her. His demeanour one of pure anger, frankly scaring the shit out of his girlfriend. She could feel the anger radiating off of him, she didn’t understand why, she would never understand why. 

“This shit again, your such a shut-in,” he whispered darkly “it’s pathetic.”  

“Crowds make me uncomfortable and you know I don’t like to party,” she reasoned 

“If you don’t get your shit together we are done, I can’t date a girl who refuses to socialize” he spat “I don’t handle being embarrassed well, and if your not the biggest embarrassment I don’t know what is!” 

He grabbed her chin forcing her to meet his raging eyes, her own stung by tears. His grip tight and painful. 

“I thought the whole shy thing was hot at first, now I just want to beat it out of you,” he sneered. 

Her whole body became rigid with fear, he was going to hit her. And he was most definitely going to enjoy it. Tears streamed down her delicate skin, her hands shaking with fear. 

“Give me ten minutes,” she whimpered. His hand slowly released her chin, he smiled at her, the smile that ensnared her every time.  she got up, got ready and obeyed his every wish. 

Pretending to be someone she’s not, for the very first time. 

I had stopped dancing now, standing completely still in the centre of the dance floor. Sweaty bodies  all around me, the red lights making me scowl. And I realized he’s the reason I am not myself, he’s the now known controlling puppeteer, he is the source of my suffocating deceptions, and he isn’t even here. his hold on me so strong its like I’ve been in a coma for years, watching myself do things I don’t want to. Because of him.  Fuck this.

Turning sharply on my heals I tap my dear friend on the shoulder. a wave of confidence and eagerness washing over me.

“I’m leaving,” I mumble. She opens her mouth but I speak before she can. 

“I hate this shit, I’m not having fun. Honestly I’m a pathetic shut-in,” I continue. 

“But you come out with me all the time?” She questions looking utterly and completely confused. 

“I’m also a dirty liar, a con if you will. Let me put it this way. I’m a lone-wolf, a wall flower, or simply an introvert being manipulated into faking extroversion,” I explain with a sickly sweet smile. 

“I also don’t particularly like you either,” I mumble. I look at her again and she looks completely baffled, and a little angry. Perfect.

“I’m going to get a restraining order against my shit-bag boyfriend,” I sigh. Grinning at her before Turning and leaving while simultaneously ignoring her calls of confusion. 

My hands start to shake as I push through the crowd, is it excitement or anxiety. I don’t think I know, I can’t pinpoint that feeling. what makes me smile and push harder, stronger. is that I can feel it. My uncomfortable caging strings slipping, screaming to grab onto me, to keep me close. But guess what strings, I’ve got a fucking knife.