Dear Zombies: Every Monster Wants Somewhere To Belong

Image result for social exclusion

I've read that social exclusion triggers the same part of the brain as physical pain. Learning this several years ago, some dots connected. Social situations from my youth and young adult life took on darker themes. Not only was I a unique loner, who seems to weave myself in and out of complex social cliques. While I was able to connect this connect rarely trespassed the door of connection, and in those brief and painful moments on the precipice of mutual empathy my abrasiveness, anger or awkwardness trip up my ability to be connected to others.

Rejecting others came with a relief. I was suddenly freed from basic social contracts and obligations I was not able to translate. I know now the primal lesson I had such a hard time with in my childhood. People want to feel important and they want others to reinforce this. Anything else breeds dissonance. I am a well-played song out of tune.

Social rejection was the loudest thought in my mind today as I walked into our monthly staff meeting. Anxious, I took two Ativan and hoped to coast through the meeting. Then that moment struck. The same moment that has happened in these monthly staff meetings for the last year. A plan or scheme, or mission statement is presented. Today was a logic model. A logic model that I could tell with out even looking at did not represent the work I do in the organization.

I know they know that I know, that the first comment is going to be "hey, what about the work I do?' What I can't figure out is if leadership is intentionally leaving my work out or unintentionally leaving it out? Both possibilities are worse because leadership is very well aware of the concern I have and others have about work place representation.

The credit goes to the one who does the work, or someone is playing a game or worse.

Sometimes people ask me why I like slashers. The first answer is usually Kantian. Jason Vorhees never compromises on his duty. Hesitation, just raw persistence, a resistance that eventually transcends life, death, time and gravity. While I don't condone killing. I do respect ruthless persistence of one's duty. An uncompromising hero is rare in these wishy-washy times where heroes are joining teams and the entire plot revolves around coming to a compromise. The other quality of the slasher is the way in which they force themselves into social space of his victims, and makes his presence and agenda undeniable. This clarity is rarely seen in society.

I want my life to be different but the obstacles seem insurmountable. I want to move to some cabin in the woods and watch movies and read all day. Free from people and their sliding and indecipherable expectations. Shit, I almost feel like I am condoning the end of Dexter.

Negative. I will not give my life up to become a lumberjack.


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