Fuck.
The results of the pedagogical studies’ entrance exams came today. Take a wild guess if I made the cut or not.
A moment of self-analytical pondering led me to the conclusion that the fault was in the group task part of the exams. I did pretty well at the interview as far as I’m concerned. The group task, on the other hand... That has to be where I went wrong.
I’ve never done well in group tasks. When it comes to working in groups, I’m always the silent observer, uttering not a single word unless I’m asked to contribute my own thoughts, feeling like an outsider, an uninvited guest, a third wheel. It’s especially bad if I have to work with strangers. It’s worse than the worst nightmare.
Not even limited to group tasks, I tend to feel like an outsider in casual conversation. In fact, even within my own circle of friends, I’ve felt like an outsider on many an occasion. My own friends. That hurts the most. That hurts more than hitting your balls on a sharp corner. And trust me, I’ve hit my balls on a sharp corner. It’s the worst pain imaginable.
Of course, I have no problem conversing face-to-face with only one person, but add as much as one and things start sliding downhill like a skateboarding maestro grinding down a railing. My mouth is like a machine that decreases its activity exponentially the more people are around me.
“Quiet”. One of the most common words I hear people describe me with. I can, however, be the complete opposite of that, but it takes a very specific situation for that to be likely in the least. It takes an extremely specific number of other people, that number being one.
As far as initiating conversation goes, in most scenarios, it’s the other person who starts it off. I only ever initiate conversation if I feel the need to break the silence somehow. But even then, it takes a lot of courage and mental preparation, especially if the other person is of roughly the same age and of the opposite sex.
Funnily enough, though, I met a girl on a train once. She was a beautiful, blue-eyed, black-haired girl in her early-ish teen years. And it was in fact I who initiated the conversation. We talked for hours. And before I knew it, it was her stop.
In any case, I do feel sad that I didn’t make the cut. Sad and slightly pissed off. But in all fairness, I can only blame my own shyness.
I’m not entirely sure how I feel about being as shy as I am. On the bright side, it’s kept me from possibly getting stabbed on the back. But on the flipside, it’s prevented me from working efficiently in group tasks. And from experiencing a romantic relationship.
That, however, is another topic for another day.