Alone at the Edge of the Map

I’m so awkward, how awkward I feel, always awkward, even in games. It’s strange, I guess, because it’s not like I’m around strangers in real life or anything, but online, it hits me the same way. Sometimes other players move in groups, and I’m just alone. I have this rule I made for myself—if someone added me as friend and while I’m online, I’ll go to their spot, hit the bell, and then just leave without saying anything. It’s like a ritual I can control. But yeah, sometimes someone will just drag me along wherever they want, and I... I don’t really know what to say if they don’t start the conversation. I just go along with it, even if I feel totally lost. I can’t do small talk well.

It’s worse when I get DMs. I don’t pay as much attention to whether they’re online, but if I don’t know what to say, I just freeze. Sometimes I go offline for a bit. In the game though, it’s more obvious. You see the map, you see them coming, and your avatar just... stands there. And if I move a little, there’s this thought: “He (that’s me) is online, but why is he taking so long to respond?” It’s dumb, I know, but it’s there.

Offline suddenly gives relief for a few seconds, but then the overthinking hits. I’ll catch myself thinking, “Maybe they came specifically for a quest or leveling up, and I went offline.” Especially if there’s a notification like, “Hey, I’m coming to you,” or “Please come here, Andy.” I feel bad. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. Always. It’s like a loop—panic, escape, regret, repeat.

I think part of it is that I like staying on the sidelines. In group play, I’m fine joining others, as long as I’m not in the middle of the crowd. I don’t need to be in the center unless it’s absolutely necessary, like grabbing items or if someone actually comes near me. The sidelines feel safe. I can watch, follow along, participate without being... exposed. That’s comfortable. Being in the middle? One person can make me tense. If I say something even slightly dumb, or like, “That quest boring,” I immediately worry I’ve disappointed them.

It’s not even about words. It’s about the pressure of making someone else think I’m okay, interesting, or entertaining. Eye contact in real life is the same. I try to avoid it whenever I can. If someone talks to me while walking behind me, I just turn away. Handshakes? That’s always a weird moment. I feel like I’m moving at the wrong time, gripping too hard or too soft, smiling too little or too much. It’s exhausting, and I just want it to be over fast.

The thing is, I think the awkwardness comes from caring too much. It’s not that I dislike people. I just... want to avoid screwing up, disappointing them, or looking stupid in the smallest way. My brain treats the possibility of those tiny social mistakes like it’s a threat. In reality, nobody’s noticing the little things, or they’re too busy with their own stuff. But in my head, it feels like every blink, every pause, every slight misstep is under a microscope.

And I know it’s ridiculous, but it feels so real. I guess that’s why I freeze, go offline, or stay at the edge of things. It’s safer. But then the regret comes, the guilt, the overthinking. It’s exhausting, and I see that now. Writing it down like this, mmm, it helps me notice the loops. Maybe seeing it on paper—or, well, screen—makes it feel less trapped inside my head.