Book Club Log #17 & Art Meetup Log #11
Had a busy week. Thursday was book club; Friday I had a 90-minute call with a friend; Saturday a friend from New York randomly dropped by for two hours; and then Sunday I went to the mall to get new glasses, I showed up at this art meeting for about 30 minutes, and then I had my watched stuff with a friend for 2 hours. Honestly, that's kind of more social than I would like, but my guess is that I might have more weeks like this in the future if I gradually add things to my calendar. (For that matter, I might try to go to a queer meetup this Thursday...)
Thursday's book was Let This Radicalize You by Mariame Kaba and Kelly Hayes. A lot of it was similar to Kaba's other book, We Do This 'Til We Free Us, but still good to revisit these ideas. There was a workbook that was passed around for optional reading, and I flipped through some of it. The main thing I thought while reading the book and the workbook was that I have a long way to go before I ever really do any organizing (if ever), because I need to increase my tolerance for strangers and acquaintances foremost. That's what I'm already working on, but the rumination cycles will likely continue to bother me for... maybe ever. It doesn't really matter if an interaction goes well, I'll still have a bunch of intrusive thoughts about it. At this point, though, there's really nothing to do but accept that it's always going to suck, and maybe some parts will suck less over time. (And then I'll get to unlock new horrors that come from putting yourself out there. Fun!)
This book club had some really involved people show up:
Someone who was running for city council (not mine, though, since my city is not the city of this book club)
Someone who used to be on that city council's public advisory board, that was formed in 2020 and then dismantled some years later, and was really jaded and upset about how the whole thing went and how moderate they played on their time there. They spend a lot of time yelling at their city council, apparently. They were also just eating chips the entire time, which was impressive to me because I could never feel comfortable enough to randomly eat snacks during a discussion group.
Someone who had been involved in canvassing for Obama in 2008, though they were likewise jaded about it. They were really outspoken and seemed to be really ready to do something.
One of the questions for discussion this month was about whether we can make space for grief in our book club. The answer was "maybe," considering that it's in a public space, so people are bound to feel awkward about it. But then Chill Lady said that on that topic, she has to move away to another state (location omitted here, but it's in another timezone). She started crying a bit and thanked the book club because she felt like she didn't really have a community here until she joined this club. I felt really sad about the whole thing because she was one of my favorite people at book club, and I hung around to talk to her with some of the other regulars until everyone left. I wasn't able to express how sad I was to see her go, but maybe that was for the better because I didn't want to randomly dump the fact that she was one of the people at this club that I had one-sidedly thought of as an emotional safety anchor.
This also marked the 3rd year of the book club's existence (I've only been here for like 1.5), so Bookstore Employee wanted to take a photo. I didn't want to be in the photo because I don't like photos, so I was the one who took it for everyone. I used to get really nervous about being in charge of camera stuff since I can't say that I'm the best at taking photos, but it felt easier this time now that I knew what to expect from past experiences. Bookstore Employee even had a polaroid camera? and that was my first time using one, and I don't know if I got everyone in the shot, but an attempt was made.
I felt kind of warm about taking the photo, and that might be the first time I've felt that. It was nice to share in the moment without having to worry about being photographed and having all the random anxiety of leaving traces of myself in someone else's hands that I don't know what they'll do with. I've always hated having my photo taken — even though I know it's probably useful to be able to go, "Hmm, I guess I looked like that," years down the road — but I usually give up and let people take them anyway because people don't really respect wanting to sit out.
Something else that struck me is that Tattoo Lady (I honestly don't remember what I've called her before) said that showing up consistently, even if you don't say anything, is a big part of being part of community. She's another really nice person. That statement made me feel better about me constantly showing up to things just to be Standing Man Emoji. Like I guess my existence here is still being part of something, and it wouldn't necessarily be better if I didn't appear at all. I didn't actually do any talking in book club this time because of all of the people who had good things to say, but it was important that I went anyway, or else I would've missed Chill Lady's announcement that she was leaving.
Hearing her comments made me realize that this is my community, too. I do have a community, even if most of it is what could probably be classified as "weak ties." I've existed consistently in a space for 1.5 years and have had three book club people over to my house individually, even though I was also really nervous about that. It's weird to think about how much of being a part of something is just showing up. I am going somewhere and becoming a part of something, no matter how small or slow it is.
And then on my way back, I had a migraine attack and didn't get to write this post then. But weirdly, even while I was experiencing vision problems with the zigzag floaters, the pain didn't get to an 8 like it usually does if unmedicated. It stayed around a 4 or so, which was very unusual. Appreciated, though. I need to figure out how to consistently carry medication on me on person.
On Sunday, I spent too long gathering my materials for writing notes for Chill Lady (goodbye letter) and Bookstore Employee (birthday present for the party at the end of the month) that I only managed to show up for the last 30 minutes of the art meetup, which had a 2.5 hour window instead of the usual 3. I also didn't talk like at all, because I was busy trying to draft what to say in this letter for Chill Lady, but I guess it was fine. I stayed a bit in the library for some extra time to work more on the letter (actually writing it down), and I learned about the existence of a Queer meetup this Thursday. I'll probably drag myself over there even though I'm just going to be 🧍♂️ again. I think a bit part of trying to get better with social anxiety is just surviving being awkward as hell, again and again. I don't know if I'll ever be less awkward, but I guess if I keep this up I'll finally fall below the threshold of diagnosis for AvPD and just be Normally Socially Anxious, which is probably as good as it gets.
Through all of this, the quote from Woodworking just keeps playing in my head. It seems easy once you've done it, and impossible until you have. You need to let yourself imagine something different.