Lesann Berry

There’s a phenomena I’ve noted in the blogosphere: cliques. Surely you remember these ensemble casts of characters from adolescence? Arms linked at the elbow as they marched, mowing down anyone not quick enough to scurry out of the way.

This proclivity occurs in school settings, work environments, athetic events, and on the world wide web it seems. I understand the reason – as people we are drawn to those who share our interests/ideals/traditions etc. That’s not a bad thing at all – but it can feel exclusionary to newcomers.

And not everyone embraces new blood.

I’m not much of a joiner. Socializing is not first-nature to me and when I find the clique to be internally focused…well, I sorta lose interest in trying to gain admission. That feeling brings about a strange sense of deja vu. Reading and writing were my way of avoiding cliques when I was younger and I realize that hasn’t changed.

One blog I visit referred in a post to lurkers – folks who lurk around the internet, reading and observing but seldom interacting. In real life people who participate in such activities are called voyeurs.

Huh. I didn’t think about myself that way. Until now.

Live and learn.

I am a lurker. Reading and surfing, visiting and checking things out appeals to me. Occasionally I feel inclined to opine and do so, but leaving comments without genuine interest feels false. I don’t like that. Insincere attempts at socializing make me unhappy.

I feel faux.

Please don’t misunderstand. I’ve met many great, wonderful, fun, energetic, and entertaining people in online groups, classes and challenges. Twitter is fun. Hashtagging cracks me up like strawberry winecoolers did when I was a teenager.

I’m not kicking anyone to the curb or throwing anybody under the bus. I’m refocusing and taking the opportunity to be who I really am.

Yeah, yeah…the internet voyeur. Ha ha.

Anyways.

I’m retreating into my bat cave. Me and the daddy longlegs will be taking a sojourn from the social whirl for a while. It’s called hermit-ing, to coin an awkward word. Old friends will laugh their asses off as soon as they read this because this is what I do in the corporeal life (A.K.A. the offline world).

Years ago I turned the ringer off on my phone. People could call but I’d never answer the phone because it never rang. Blessed silence. It took a while for word to get around but then my answering machine became the Friday night joke-call. I got entire conversations recorded by smartasses friends who were out and  thought they’d call to include me in their evening.

I’ll still be visiting blogs and occasionally leaving a comment, when I really have something to contribute, but the rest of this hubble bubble is overwhelming for my strained socialization skills.

I do hope you’ll still surf by and celebrate a little danger here at ye olde blogstop, but if not, happy travels.

In the spirit of discussion, feel free to raphsodize about mental health breaks you’ve taken. Or people who disappeared and then mysteriously reappeared in your life. Or crazy messages people have left on your answering machine…

Tags: being a hermit, anti-social behavior, voyeurism