Social Recluse

Hi there. My name is Marty and I used to be a social recluse.

Sometime back in elementary school, I was an outcast. Sure I had a few friends here and there, but for the most part, I felt like I didn’t fit in: too short, too quiet, not wearing cool clothes (Buster Brown was not cool)… there were lots of reasons why I preferred the comfortable place of just being by myself.

During recess while the other kids were off playing tetherball and four-sqaure, I was walking the perimeter of the school yard.

Teachers noticed this and decided to run some tests on me. Out of the results of these tests, they determined I was hyperactive. Back in the early 70’s, they gave hyperactive kids Ritalin to help calm them down. So now instead of helping me break out of my reclusive state, this drug-induced solution has me more quiet and a bigger desire to remain reclusive.

As I entered into Jr. High, I was starting to find that Ritalin wasn’t helping me any. So I quit taking it on my own (un-beknownst to my mother). I noticed that I wanted to hang out with others more often and participate in social gatherings with people I knew. Hey, it was a start.

Then came High School. Not even two weeks into my Freshman year, I met some new friends. And taking drugs re-entered my life again. But nothing like Ritalin. Oh no… this 14 year old moved on to pot, cocaine and alcohol.

And amazingly enough, these new drugs did just the opposite of Ritalin. Instead of wanting to stay in the background, I became more social. I was not simply Marty. I was now Party Hardy Marty. Going to friends homes to gather with other drug-partaking friends, I was the scene. I was the hip guy that made people laugh and they laughed at me. New drugs were introduced to the mix here and there, and before I knew it, I was on top of my social game. My grades sucked ass and I failed several classes, but I didn’t give a shit. I was the fucking cool guy and I was out of my reclusive shell.

Four semesters of this and a bad trip on Angel Dust, I took the summer between my Sophomore and Junior years to re-evaluate my situation (plus, my mother found out I was smoking pot – she never knew about all of the other drugs until years later). While I liked being the life of the party, I quickly learned that in my immature state of mind, ingesting multiple chemicals on a regular basis wasn’t helping me in other areas.

I returned to school in September 1979 with short hair (no longer past my shoulders) and drug free – not even alcohol. When I graduated in June 1981, I reflected back on the last four semesters. I had more friends, I was on the honor roll, I graduated with a 3.8 GPA and I felt ready to conquer the world once I left the halls of Garden Grove High School.

But then something happened. College. All new people, no hanging outside the cafeteria after lunch. It was all different. And once again, I became a recluse. I attended one semester of college before dropping out. I started to see a pattern developing. What did I need to do to break out of this?

Fast forward three years. I am now back in college, lots of friends, attending social activities on a regular basis. Was I doing large amount of blow and pot again? Hanging out by the jungle juice cooler with new friends? Nope. I learned how to deal with my social issues by just not caring what other people thought, how I appeared to others or what any of my hangups were about meeting new people. In some way, the drug use helped me realize there was a side of me that could be socially active. I just learned how to induce it on my own.

Now, I’m not saying that drugs cannot help a person’s social abilities. Over the last ten years, I’ve done my share of the three drugs that I used in my Freshman year. And there’s been some social settings where I’ve been able to reclaim the title of Party Hardy Marty. But in my mid-40’s, I’ve found that simply time has helped me be the social person I am. Living life and living in the world has helped me retain my social skills. Oh sure, I get awkward here and there, but meeting new people and going to new places is not the issue it used to be 30-40 years ago.

And that’s how I got here for a second year in a row, guest posting for Karl during his Summer of Love. Going from a social recluse to guest posting for a couple hundred thousands of Karl’s readers. And I’m sure I’ll be back next year for Summer Of Love 3: The Search For More Readers.

Marty Mankins is a writer/scooter rider living in Salt Lake City, UT. You can visit him over at Banal Leakage – www.banalleakage.com