In That Odd Little Way

In the seventh grade, my teacher enjoyed using the word "metacognition" and since we were all teens, I know I didn't really understand the concept at all. Years later, and with enough experience and periods of altered mental states, I realize I do think about my thinking. 

I'm the one at parties and kickbacks laughing lightly at jokes and refraining from saying anything, fearing that what I have to add is insignificant and insipid. I think all of my friends are cooler than I am. I constantly have to analyze everything I think about and pass it through more filters than I can count, wondering if it's good enough to translate into sound waves. Whenever I become insanely introverted, everything I try to convey sounds wrong and no matter how interesting I try to seem, I always think I'm boring.

In mind altered states, I become oddly quiet. The people around me are all talkative and at ease, but I'm only more aware of how stupid I am. It's odd, really. I am confident in myself physically, and usually emotionally, but for whatever reason, I think I'm boring. I am inevitably stuck listening to that one annoying friend go on about something incredibly unfunny and absolutely pointless, and I'm afraid that what I say will be worse than that. So instead of conversing on the finite nature of originality, I'm huddled in the most unobtrusive spot I can find, smiling and laughing, but never saying a word.

In moments like these, I realize how much I hate being in a mind altered state and wonder why I didn't remember before I agreed to alter my biochemistry. Every time, I'm stuck listening to myself second guess everything I think about. The heavy sense of mental fogginess constricts anything interesting I could say and the physical lethargy becomes annoying. 

Still, I don't understand why people put themselves down and hold little self-worth. Maybe I'm a unique blend of high self worth and introversion.