Author: Miriam Drori

Author, editor, attempter of this thing called life. Social anxiety warrior. Re-Connections, a collection of short stories, published with Ocelot Press, 15/10/2025.

Categories
Social anxiety

You Can’t See Me

This post was inspired by Catherine Hughes. It took great courage for her to post about all the things that people don’t see.

Like Catherine, but for very different reasons, I feel invisible. People look at me and see a normal person. They don’t realise what’s going on inside me. They may not notice anything at all in that first conversation. They certainly can’t hear what the voice in my head keeps repeating while the conversation is going on and after it: “It won’t be long before she realises that you’re not worth talking to, before she jumps to incorrect conclusions and moves on to lusher pastures.”

What are those conclusions? Mostly that I don’t want to talk. That I’m happy to remain on the side lines rather than joining in. That I’m shy.

Nothing could be further from the truth. I love to talk, even though it’s hard. I love to be the centre of attention. And I’m not shy. No matter how “obvious” that seems to everyone, I’m not, believe me.

Erika, according to a recent Facebook status, is a “lonely, handicapped prisoner”. That’s because she broke her ankle and has been forced to stay at home for six weeks. I commented, “Then you know how I feel all the time,” even though I hadn’t broken anything. Why?

I feel lonely because I like company. I’ve always liked company. Yet mostly, I push that company away because I’m sure it doesn’t really want me.

I feel handicapped because I struggle to do something that most people take for granted. The words come out wrong or not at all. My thoughts can’t escape my head.

I feel like a prisoner locked inside invisible walls that I built in no time and have been trying to knock down for ever.

My main worry, when I’m with other people, is that they’ll think I’m weird. So I do anything to avoid that, including keeping quiet rather than saying something they might be surprised at. But keeping quiet is also weird behaviour, so I’m under constant pressure to talk and that makes my mind go blank and then they think I’m stupid – or I think they do.

I know I’m not capable of explaining this in a conversation. Even when I write it, I worry that people won’t understand, that they’ll think I should be able to snap out of it. Sometimes, even I wonder why I don’t manage to do that, and I live with it.

Catherine put it so well, here: “I hide in plain sight.  You can see me, but you cannot see within me.  You do not know what effort or courage it has taken me to set foot in the outside world; you cannot discern how I feel.”

Many things in my life are good. I’m not trying to deny how lucky I’ve been. I just wish I could solve this problem, which bugs me no end.

Categories
Books Small stones

Small Stones

You probably know what goes on in November – how certain crazy (or dedicated) people go into hibernation for a month and come out on the first of December with a whole novel. Now there’s something similar to  NaNoWriMo, called NaSmaStoMo. During the month of January, certain crazy people will create a small stone every day, and it seems I’m going to be one of them. The badge on the right says so.

What are these stones?
From the River of Stones website: “A small stone is a polished moment of paying proper attention.” It’s a scene, described after taking care to notice all the details.

I’m not expecting this to be easy, but I’m going to give it a go. Hopefully it’ll teach me to pay more attention to what’s going on around me. If you want to join in, the details are here.

This project is the brainchild of Fiona Robyn and her fiancé, Kaspa.

Categories
Books

My First Reading

Yesterday evening, I attended an event where people read stories… essays… pieces they’d written on the topic of immigration and I read one of my stories.

I think it went well. People said they liked my story and I think they meant it. And I enjoyed talking to people afterwards.

So, I’m feeling good today. Time to do lots of writing, methinks.

Categories
Books

It’s All about Money

Someone in my family qualified as an optician and found a job in a large UK company. On her first day, she was told to recommend glasses to everyone, whether they really needed them or not. She left that job and went into another field entirely.

Last weekend’s edition of the Yediot Aharonot newspaper had an article that highlighted a similar situation in the two big book store chains here. Employees are given a list of books to recommend. It doesn’t matter whether they’ve actually read those books or not, they have to recommend them. And if they succeed in selling enough of them, they are rewarded with bonuses and trips abroad.

I’ve hardly ever asked for a recommendation for a book in a shop. I certainly won’t do that any more.

Is this how it works? Is this what happens all over the world? Can this be stopped?

Categories
Holidays Social anxiety

Home From Home – Day 41 (end)

This is the last post in the series. In my next post I’ll return to what this blog was supposed to be about – writing and social anxiety. Not that this post has nothing to do with social anxiety….

***

Leaving the HP sauce behind (because D informed me that he found a source for the sauce), I carry my case and rucksack downstairs and have a quick breakfast before setting out. M2, in the last of many good deeds, is up and dressed, and she drives me to the station at some unearthly hour.

All the trains run to time, and I’m soon taking a last look at the back of the house I lived in for twenty years as my train whizzes past.

My mind is on my luggage, wondering whether it’ll pass the weight limit, when an El Al security person calls me over for the usual chat. You know, who packed your luggage, was it with you all the time. It’s very noisy in the airport, and I haven’t had much sleep. I’ve never had any trouble with the security check before, but this time, she’s worried. She says I seem hesitant.

I try to think of a normal-sounding excuse. “I haven’t spoken Hebrew for six weeks.” A bad idea. She wants to repeat the whole procedure in English. “No. I understood it all. I packed everything and it was with me all the time.”

Fortunately, she lets me go. Otherwise I might have had to mention the dreaded words: social anxiety.

And that’s it. My case weighs 20.2 kg, which is apparently OK. I heave my heavy rucksack onto my sleep-deprived body and follow all the usual procedures until I finally end up in the arms of D, who takes me back home. Because, while London and the other places feel very familiar, Jerusalem is my real home and I’m glad to be back.

Categories
Books Holidays

Home From Home – Day 40

Right! It’s time to finish my account of the almost six weeks I spent in the UK and Holland in the summer. In the meantime, I’ve accumulated other things I want to blog about. But I must finish this first.

***

After another visit to my mother, I buy some more leggings, have a quick meal and make my way to a pub called The Phoenix to attend the event for which I extended my trip. Once a month, downstairs at the Phoenix, is an event called “Liars’ League”, in which people come to listen to a few chosen stories read by real actors. I decided that I couldn’t let this opportunity of being in London pass without doing something connected to fiction, and I’m not disappointed.

The stories are read exceptionally well, and I even speak to some people during the breaks. It’s a very pleasant evening.

Back in M2’s house, I spend some time organising my belongings, putting the heaviest things in my rucksack. There’s not much time to sleep. Tomorrow, I’m finally returning home.

Categories
Books Social anxiety

Creativity

I never used to think of myself as a creative person, yet here I am talking about creativity. Well – not here but over at Honest Speaks. Thanks for having me, Rachael!

Categories
Uncategorized

Childish Crimes

I know I have two more posts to go to finish the tale of my trip to Europe in the summer, but something else has been on my mind during the last few days. If the news is true, two sixteen-year-old boys started a fire that killed 42 people and destroyed wild life, buildings and some beautiful countryside.

In all likelihood, the boys didn’t intend to cause any damage at all. They just wanted to burn some rubbish. The fire was caused by their carelessness. Those boys will have to live the rest of their lives knowing what a catastrophe they caused. If they are decent people, the pain will worsen as they mature.

Most of us manage to get through childhood without causing such a catastrophe, without committing any crime at all. But we might well have done things in childhood that we’re sorry for afterwards – things that had consequences that, as children, we couldn’t envisage.

The things I’m thinking of are my decisions to hide my feelings and, later, to keep quiet. I harmed only myself, but I wish I hadn’t.

Are you sorry about any of your childhood actions?

Categories
Bullying Holidays

Home From Home – Day 39

I’m very glad to leave the place of my week-long solitary sojourn and return to the vibrant vivacity if M2’s house. Before that, M2, J and I have arranged to meet at Waterloo for a day out. We all know each other from uni. Planning to meet people from uni has none of the apprehension that meeting people from school does. At uni, I fitted in, joined in.

So I leave my suitcase at the left-luggage office, which is between platforms 11 and 12. (Sort of 11¾?)

I finally get my ploughman’s lunch, so I can tick that off on my list:

Eat shortbread √
Drink cider √
Eat ploughman’s lunch in pub √
Eat fish and chips √
Eat salt and vinegar crisps √
Eat scones with jam and cream X
If summer, feel rain √
Buy underwear in M&S X

Unfortunately, the food in the pub we choose is not wonderful – maybe that’s why it’s empty – but at least the company is good.

We visit a museum called “Enchanted Palace” at Kensington Palace. It’s a bit strange but interesting. Then we walk around the gardens and take tea in the Orangery, a very posh-looking place. And I finally get my scone with jam and cream. Mmm. So this is the final table:

Eat shortbread √
Drink cider √
Eat ploughman’s lunch in pub √
Eat fish and chips √
Eat salt and vinegar crisps √
Eat scones with jam and cream √
If summer, feel rain √
Buy underwear in M&S X

The underwear isn’t essential; I bought some quite recently. Back in the gardens, someone is feeding squirrels:

In the evening, I finally give M2’s husband the answer to his question. It was day 22 when he asked me what I learned in my life that I wish I’d known earlier. I haven’t really been thinking about this question ever since, but I haven’t had the opportunity to answer – or that’s what I tell myself. This is the last opportunity, so I take it. “I wish I’d known before the age of five how children treat each other. That would have made all the difference.”

You see, on my first day at school, through no fault of my own, I missed the first part of the day. At the end of the day, the teacher gave out drawings to the children. One girl said to me, “You won’t get a drawing because you didn’t do one.” It’s a perfectly normal thing for one child to say to another, but the mocking tone of her voice made me think I was being singled out, that there was something wrong with me. That feeling stayed with me. I expected to be treated differently and the other children picked up on that and did as I expected.

The next post will be the penultimate one in this series.

Categories
Holidays Social anxiety

Home From Home – Day 38

You would expect two people who have got to know each other in an online forum to have plenty to say to each other. After all, they already know a lot about each other, and so they can continue to discuss actions, thoughts, feelings that they have written about on the forum. If they don’t happen to suffer from social anxiety.

Social anxiety sufferers, even those who are verbose in an online forum, can be very quiet in actual, face-to-face meetings. The pressure caused by the physical presence of another person causes them to forget what they wanted to say or worry so much about how and whether to express it that they end up keeping quiet. Well, not completely. They usually manage to talk, but their speech is often hesitant and sporadic.

I say “they”, but I can include myself in that, to varying degrees depending on external factors, and probably every other social anxiety sufferer to varying degrees depending on the person themself (is that a word, these days?) and on external factors.

So you can understand that when two social anxiety sufferers get together, the conversation doesn’t exactly flow. Each one struggles with inner thoughts and worries, and neither is able to make up for the lack of input from the other side.

S and I have met at least three times before. Each time, we spent a few hours together and struggled to keep the conversation going. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy the experience. I did. But when it was over, I heaved a sigh of relief from the absence of pressure.

This time is different; we have more of an agenda. We’re at the boat show in Southampton, a most impressive array of yachts and other boats. The weather is glorious, and we spend our time seeing how the rich live, driving yachts,

(I wish), examining fish in a marine research boat:

and watching a freight ship (or whatever it’s called):

Conversation isn’t so necessary, and so it comes more naturally, mostly spawned by the things we see.

We have lunch under the sun in the dining area – fish and chips. And visit the tourist shops on the way out. In all, a very pleasant day.

In the evening, I see a TV programme about Vera Lynn. She’s 92 and seems very active and alert. Good for her! She is interviewed by David Frost, who doesn’t look all that young himself!