eye contact

A curious habit I picked up somewhere in my alcoholic career, is an aversion to looking people in the face for any extended length of time.  I catch myself glancing quickly away if I make eye contact for too long. 

It's not something that happens so much, I suppose, with my friends, but certainly with casual acquaintances and strangers.

Since I've become aware of the tendency, I've been working with it, examining it.  The reaction is totally fear-based.  It's as though I'm afraid if I look someone directly in the eye for too long, they'll see something I don't want them to.  I feel a gut reaction to hide.  When I force myself to override this impulse, I become very uncomfortable very quickly.  My stomach clenches.  Blood rushes to my face.  I feel shame.

It seems to be a defensive move, but what am I protecting myself from? 

Part of it must originate from my early days out drinking in bars (when I was still sneaking in, under age).  I obviously didn't want the bouncers to look at me that closely.  I was so terrified of the new world of sex, that I certainly didn't want anyone to think that I was cruising them--especially those 'old' (my age now) guys who kept staring at me hard as I perambulated my fresh meat through the dark disco nursing an amaretto sour.  And drag queens!  There is no more crippling terror than a seven foot tall man in a dress, reeking of some watered down knock off of Giorgio of Beverly Hills, towering over your table and calling the spotlight man to shine a beam in your face. 

Keep your head down your eyes on the ground, and they'll find someone else to pick on...

It's twenty years later, and I'm still looking away.

What I've found is this habit keeps me from relating to other people.  I interact with a mental idea, a 'snapshot' of the other person I carry in my mind.  I don't ever look long enough to see the real, flawed beauty of each person.  Their particular ticks, blemishes, the way they wear emotion in their face.  My refusal to 'see' the other keeps them from being too real.

Looking someone in the eyes is an act of intimacy.  Intimacy requires honesty, openness, presence.  Those are things I've successfully avoided for years through the skillful use of cocktails and cigarettes.  Now there's nothing between me and the world.  It's a bit harrowing (and exhilarating).

My internal commentator, as usual, tries to keep any interaction all about me.  Am I performing well?  Am I saying the right things?  Does the other person think I'm witty and wise? redundant and repulsive?  Are they bored out of their minds? 

The entire encounter is filtered by this inane chatter.  I never really experience the other person, and in fact, I don't experience the encounter myself.  Am I bored out of my mind?  Am I carrying on a conversation that is awkward and going nowhere just because I'm afraid of being rejected if I walk away?  That's some insane shit.

So, as is always the case these days in sobriety, I have some work to do on myself.  There's a whole way of living I've never experienced before.  Exciting, daunting, but pretty cool.

Passion, beauty, and love, folks--24 hours at a time...