Hiding in my Heart-Bunker: March 6, 2004

I've been spending a *LOT* of time on the Internet lately, exploring new social networking sites and tools like RSS aggregators. Partly it's because I have a brand-new PC, a much-needed upgrade from my 4-year-old emachine system. Partly it's because I'm avoiding my housecleaning and other chores :-)

But I've been drawn in by the blogosphere in particular: the thousands of people who, like me, have set up their own little online publishing-houses, in hopes of tempting the websurfing public with their stories, their lives, their attitude. There's a tremendous amount of dreck out there, but there's enough good stuff out there that it gives me hope that maybe, just maybe, we are collectively creating something new, something good.

The truth is: I'm trying to find a balance between the anti-social Ryan (where I feel I am now) and the hyper-social Ryan (the one who is constantly on the go). I know why I'm feeling anti-social tonight; I've been invited to join some friends celebrating at a local bar, but I more often than not don't feel like I belong, like I fit in the bar scene. I never went out to the bars before I came out of the closet, but I felt I had to do it if I were going to meet other gay men (oh the lies we tell ourselves). And, having spent five years in the bar scene with little to show for it (and paradoxically, making my deepest friendships outside the bar), I don't feel like I need to prove anything by going out to a place I don't enjoy, even if I am with friends.

The deeper truth is: I'm afraid. Afraid of having a collision. Not a physical collision, like I did with the car less than a week ago. Afraid of having an emotional collision: meeting somone, engaging someone, perhaps changing my life by letting myself risk exposure and possible ridicule by another person. Afraid to let myself go out, gain experience, risk rejection, and get hurt again, afraid of making mistakes and kicking myself afterwards, just like everybody else does. Easier to stay home and hide behind a computer screen, a userid, a blog.

When I'm hiding in my heart-bunker, I take no risks, and nobody hurts me... because I'm afraid to let anybody touch me.