Facadre

The mask is off. The facade is down. I'm me today.

Some days the act is exhausting; the role I have to play to fit in with the people around me to ensure than I can continue to earn a paycheck. It has taken time to master the skill, but I have my coworkers, most of them I think, convinced that I'm a light-hearted, amicable, fun-loving, geek.

I've learned to use humor and generosity as tools. Humor in particular is an excellent defense mechanism. It molds others' perceptions and expectations such that they do not even begin to form a desire to get to know the person behind the laughter. They know that when you're around they can always be made to feel good with a funny quip or facial expression. Generosity produces a similar effect in that the recipient would not dare attempt to forge a relationship that delved further than the surface for fear of jeopardizing their expected benefits.

Portraying a geek is another great way to keep people at a safe distance while still maintaining a position of respect among my, for abject lack of a better term, peers. Geeks are stereotypically unapproachable, tech savvy, trekkies, around whom people feel most comfortable at or slightly beyond arm's reach. They find comfort in knowing that should a problem arise with their computer, as long as they have maintained a base superficial relationship with them, they can call on them, especially knowing that the geek wants nothing more than to be acknowledged for his expertise and for the opportunity to talk shop over someone else's head.

Talking shop does work. Whenever I want a conversation to end I will go straight to talking about the intricate details of computers, guitars, or any other thing for which I can feign a passion.

Some days it seems to come easy. This is not one of those days.

When those for whom I put on the act invalidate their station I become quite content to drop my guard and give them a taste of the real me.

I do realize that the real me is still a matter of perception, and even debate, especially considering that I am only now discovering who I am, but rather than hide from myself as I have done in the past I feel that it is high time for me to embrace my true persona. I have to say that I do enjoy no longer being the guy who would painstakingly mull over what he could have said or done in the social situations with which he is faced.

Yes, granted I could actually be, to an extent, the guy I'm trying to portray. After all it does take an ounce of truth to craft an effective lie. But beneath that light-hearted, amicable, fun-loving, geek facade, there is a truly somber, cynical , reclusive, socially awkward thinker.

I used to think that those traits were the results or symptoms of depression, but now I can see that the depression I've been experiencing is actually a direct result of trying to reconcile those traits with the society that inspired and engendered them.

Days like these I care more about my own personal integrity than I do about maintaining the illusion of conformity. I would rather those who have done everything in their power to lose my respect experience the full extent of my honesty than violate my principles by inadvertently condoning their actions.

Days like these I no longer care about how I am perceived, and should my candor bear lasting consequences I welcome them with open arms. I would rather pay the price for uncompromising loyalty to my own values and morals than live with the knowledge that I have sold them out to the lowest possible bidder.

Days like these I'm reminded of my father's arrogance; the way he looked down on everyone less educated, less intelligent, less, well, arrogant than he. When my facade is down I know that my tolerance for the people around me is greatly diminished, but I am not my father. I don't think myself better than they. I know my shortcomings. I know my failures. I know that the life that I lived fashioned me this way and that I can't hold anyone who wasn't built this way to the same standard as I do myself.

However, there are universal core values for which every adult can be held accountable. When those core values, honor, integrity, and respect, are violated, especially in positions of leadership, I no longer deem it necessary or desirable to play the role that earns me their approval. That's when they get to meet me for the first time.

From that point on, the relationship consists solely of work related issues. There's no more polite laughter. No more small talk. No more Eric. I am now Mr. Lovett to them. Once that transition occurs it is irreversible.

It has nothing to do with forgiveness. I am no one's judge but mine. It has nothing to do with holding a grudge. I do not consider myself personally wronged. It has nothing to do with hurt feelings. I feel nothing. It has everything to do with the nature and parameters of the relationship being clearly defined. That definition then provides a clear sense of direction to the relationship, which, for someone as socially awkward as I, can be quite comforting.

It is such a good thing to know where you stand with people.

Even when their actions, or omissions, of course, do not target you directly, you can easily discover the character of the person, and the disposition you may be comfortable in displaying to them, by mere observation.

Today the nature of a few of my relationships became crystal clear to me.

It's nice to know that I will finally be able to be myself around those people. I'm not quite sure they will find it as rewarding an experience as I will.