Extreme Shyness And How To Deal With It
Without Prejudice
I as a child was extremely shy. I hid behind my Mothers skirts when ever strangers would enter our Nissen hut in Adelaide. We lived in a hostel then for two years until my parents paid back the government for their assisted passage from the U.K. There was in particular one man and his name was Peter. He was tall, dark and alwaus wanted to greet me and I was paralysingly shy of him. I would not so much as look at him and cling desperately to my Mother with terror.
After that I followed my older siblings and would shy away from loud voices, fights with neighbourhood kids. I hated confrontation and preferred peace and quiet to any other activity. Before five I had moved countries, moved dwellings and had a baby brother born who I adored. I liked the peace and quiet of the house in Port Augusta and preferred it to anything else.
My siblings played in the streets and I was never interested. Neighbourhood kids were rough and noisy and I avoided them like the plague. My brothers would tease me mercilessly about my shyness telling me stories of hidden monsters and movies that were horrible. When we did go to the movies I hid under my Dad's legs when the scary bits came on. The Ten Commandments I hated and hid when the slaves were whipped.
There was only one thing I wasn't shy about and that was my curiosity with the opposite sex. Then I was naughty and was caught showing my "Bits" to a rough neighbourhood boy when I was about 4. I wasn't ashamed of my body and he had been giving me the big come on wanting to play Doctors and Nurses. I was sprung, scolded and told I was 'rude". I didn't care and had decided that the body was very interesting, indeed.
I remember a little girl neighbour coming in to the laundry in Jervois Street Port Augusta where my Mother was bathing me and I stood up. I was of course naked and didn't care that she saw me naked and my Mother, naturally, pushed me back down into the water. I remember the feeling as if it were yesterday. I wanted this silly girl to see me naked as if to say
"I don't care what you think"
I didn't like her and that was my way of disgusting her so she would stop trying to be my friend.
The day I started school, I cried, tears running down my face as I stood at the window and saw all the other kids, laughing and having a great time. I was bereft. But then I suddenly was taken out of prep half way through the year and packed of to first Grade. I had something that made me unique and made me stand out. I could read and write at 5.
I became the story teller and the child prodigy but still crippled with extreme shyness. I relied on my siblings to get me through the tough times and this they readily did. Jackie was an Amazon, George a hero, Jamie a rough tumble clown, Ian ruled with his intellect and disdain of girls. He never said a lot and never hung around us kids that much. He had to take care of us if we were in his charge but he mainly was always off playing with older friends.
Then Jamies was killed, him and his best friend Wayne in a sand cave in tragedy that shook us and the Town of Port Augusta to the core. Two boys of the town, aged 11, dead. We kids were sent away to the Adelaide Hills for three months without Mum and Dad. Ian and Dave who was a baby were allowed to stay home with Mum and Dad.
I rebelled and was smacked by the lady who was looking after us. I had never been smacked in my life and was ropeable. Jackie told Mum when they came to pick us up, my parents and needless to say we never saw that lady again. But my rebellion had started. I remember the family and her family all coming back from Church and I had ran ahead to the house.
I grabbed a spoon and ate Milo, dry from a tin as it was delicious and put everything away before the others noisily clattered in. I knew I was stealing and I didn't care. The lady was a big fat Monster to me and I hated her after she smacked me. I think she knew I hated her in fact I am sure of it and ever after I stayed right out of her way. I am sure she wondered why the Milo kept disappearing.
Jackie and I also went to her switchboard which she ran as a job. I think she was the Post mistress for the area. It was one of the old black plug in switchboards with curly wires hanging down. There were heaps of them. Jackie and I pulled out every one and crossed them. There was chaos but we both said her fat daughter did it and she had no idea who to punish. That was a great win.
After we were allowed back home I retreated to my room. I withdrew from the family in books and my imagination. We were not allowed to talk about Jamie and that is when I hid. I hid in my world of books and animals that talked. I was never happier than laying face down on the bed, reading. Every one in the Fa,ily knew where Janette would be, in her room, reading.
Jackie would stomp in at times and tell me to get my head out of the book as she was left to do all the work. But I reasoned she liked it or she wouldn't do it and to me she was always in a cranky mood. She laughed at my books, especially the Wind In The Willows, stating,
"Animals, can't talk"
Mum and Dad liked me to read and gave me books and more books. I was allowed to read my siblings books before they could as I would finish it in a night and they took weeks. I devoured books, I read everything I could get my hands on. Encyclopedias, histroty books, big tomes and small. And with my withdrawal from life I became even more insular and shy.
I was "top Girl" at every school I went to because of my education and speaking voice and I became The One That Reads To Others and The Announcer of The Broadcast. I was allowed to read stories over the P.A. every afternoon. Behind the mike I wasn't shy as I couldn't be seen. By the time I was 6 I was reading the stories and I had the temerity to have the inflection in my voice as I "became" he White Rabbit Or The Scary Monster.
I never had to read Janet and John, I had free rein of the library and I would take out five at a time. The books were so much better than real life. I loved ones that had food in them as we were always starving. And I do mean that literally. Mum was a shocker of a cook and I would only eat scrambled eggs and Cream of Tomato soup, anyway. My Mother said I would be finishing breakfast when everyone else was starting lunch.
I read What Katy Did and Famous Five and Secret Seven, Billy Bunter, William, I read of midnight feasts and sugary Crullers. Bath buns, (What were those?) and then wander into the kitchen where Mum was cooking tripe or Pigs trotters and there was no way I was eating either. She made us doorstops of bread for school lunches and a tomato with a twisted piece of paper with salt in. Sometimes there would be a piece of fruit.
I would look longingly at other kids lunches in the Shelter Shed and hide mine in a paper bag and eat quietly. The only time I remember having a decent lunch was when Mum helped in the canteen and we had hot cocoa and hot tomato soup. We never had after school snacks. fter a while Ian started to cook and life was better. He cooked Scottish Tablet which is basically butter, sugar and condensed milk. Shortbread which was flour, sugar and butter.
As we grew we had sauce sandwiches, H.P and tomato sauce and sugar on butter sandwiches. We ate rolled oats with sugar mixed in a cup and raw potato for the crunch. I only remember once being able to have a school lunch. I was so jealous of kids that had them. The paper bag with their name on handed in before recess. Sometimes I was sent to fetch them and peeked inside. Cream buns, sandwiches made of thin bread, a pie, a sausage roll. The smell was heaven.
I was once asked back to a girls place after school and she had Sao's and cheese with chutney on and I was shocked that she was allowed to have it. I went home to my Mother and demanded we have normal food like other people. So she did but Saos from then on but we, being so many, quickly devoured them and went back to sauce sandwiches once again.
To Be Continued
I as a child was extremely shy. I hid behind my Mothers skirts when ever strangers would enter our Nissen hut in Adelaide. We lived in a hostel then for two years until my parents paid back the government for their assisted passage from the U.K. There was in particular one man and his name was Peter. He was tall, dark and alwaus wanted to greet me and I was paralysingly shy of him. I would not so much as look at him and cling desperately to my Mother with terror.
After that I followed my older siblings and would shy away from loud voices, fights with neighbourhood kids. I hated confrontation and preferred peace and quiet to any other activity. Before five I had moved countries, moved dwellings and had a baby brother born who I adored. I liked the peace and quiet of the house in Port Augusta and preferred it to anything else.
My siblings played in the streets and I was never interested. Neighbourhood kids were rough and noisy and I avoided them like the plague. My brothers would tease me mercilessly about my shyness telling me stories of hidden monsters and movies that were horrible. When we did go to the movies I hid under my Dad's legs when the scary bits came on. The Ten Commandments I hated and hid when the slaves were whipped.
There was only one thing I wasn't shy about and that was my curiosity with the opposite sex. Then I was naughty and was caught showing my "Bits" to a rough neighbourhood boy when I was about 4. I wasn't ashamed of my body and he had been giving me the big come on wanting to play Doctors and Nurses. I was sprung, scolded and told I was 'rude". I didn't care and had decided that the body was very interesting, indeed.
I remember a little girl neighbour coming in to the laundry in Jervois Street Port Augusta where my Mother was bathing me and I stood up. I was of course naked and didn't care that she saw me naked and my Mother, naturally, pushed me back down into the water. I remember the feeling as if it were yesterday. I wanted this silly girl to see me naked as if to say
"I don't care what you think"
I didn't like her and that was my way of disgusting her so she would stop trying to be my friend.
The day I started school, I cried, tears running down my face as I stood at the window and saw all the other kids, laughing and having a great time. I was bereft. But then I suddenly was taken out of prep half way through the year and packed of to first Grade. I had something that made me unique and made me stand out. I could read and write at 5.
I became the story teller and the child prodigy but still crippled with extreme shyness. I relied on my siblings to get me through the tough times and this they readily did. Jackie was an Amazon, George a hero, Jamie a rough tumble clown, Ian ruled with his intellect and disdain of girls. He never said a lot and never hung around us kids that much. He had to take care of us if we were in his charge but he mainly was always off playing with older friends.
Then Jamies was killed, him and his best friend Wayne in a sand cave in tragedy that shook us and the Town of Port Augusta to the core. Two boys of the town, aged 11, dead. We kids were sent away to the Adelaide Hills for three months without Mum and Dad. Ian and Dave who was a baby were allowed to stay home with Mum and Dad.
I rebelled and was smacked by the lady who was looking after us. I had never been smacked in my life and was ropeable. Jackie told Mum when they came to pick us up, my parents and needless to say we never saw that lady again. But my rebellion had started. I remember the family and her family all coming back from Church and I had ran ahead to the house.
I grabbed a spoon and ate Milo, dry from a tin as it was delicious and put everything away before the others noisily clattered in. I knew I was stealing and I didn't care. The lady was a big fat Monster to me and I hated her after she smacked me. I think she knew I hated her in fact I am sure of it and ever after I stayed right out of her way. I am sure she wondered why the Milo kept disappearing.
Jackie and I also went to her switchboard which she ran as a job. I think she was the Post mistress for the area. It was one of the old black plug in switchboards with curly wires hanging down. There were heaps of them. Jackie and I pulled out every one and crossed them. There was chaos but we both said her fat daughter did it and she had no idea who to punish. That was a great win.
After we were allowed back home I retreated to my room. I withdrew from the family in books and my imagination. We were not allowed to talk about Jamie and that is when I hid. I hid in my world of books and animals that talked. I was never happier than laying face down on the bed, reading. Every one in the Fa,ily knew where Janette would be, in her room, reading.
Jackie would stomp in at times and tell me to get my head out of the book as she was left to do all the work. But I reasoned she liked it or she wouldn't do it and to me she was always in a cranky mood. She laughed at my books, especially the Wind In The Willows, stating,
"Animals, can't talk"
Mum and Dad liked me to read and gave me books and more books. I was allowed to read my siblings books before they could as I would finish it in a night and they took weeks. I devoured books, I read everything I could get my hands on. Encyclopedias, histroty books, big tomes and small. And with my withdrawal from life I became even more insular and shy.
I was "top Girl" at every school I went to because of my education and speaking voice and I became The One That Reads To Others and The Announcer of The Broadcast. I was allowed to read stories over the P.A. every afternoon. Behind the mike I wasn't shy as I couldn't be seen. By the time I was 6 I was reading the stories and I had the temerity to have the inflection in my voice as I "became" he White Rabbit Or The Scary Monster.
I never had to read Janet and John, I had free rein of the library and I would take out five at a time. The books were so much better than real life. I loved ones that had food in them as we were always starving. And I do mean that literally. Mum was a shocker of a cook and I would only eat scrambled eggs and Cream of Tomato soup, anyway. My Mother said I would be finishing breakfast when everyone else was starting lunch.
I read What Katy Did and Famous Five and Secret Seven, Billy Bunter, William, I read of midnight feasts and sugary Crullers. Bath buns, (What were those?) and then wander into the kitchen where Mum was cooking tripe or Pigs trotters and there was no way I was eating either. She made us doorstops of bread for school lunches and a tomato with a twisted piece of paper with salt in. Sometimes there would be a piece of fruit.
I would look longingly at other kids lunches in the Shelter Shed and hide mine in a paper bag and eat quietly. The only time I remember having a decent lunch was when Mum helped in the canteen and we had hot cocoa and hot tomato soup. We never had after school snacks. fter a while Ian started to cook and life was better. He cooked Scottish Tablet which is basically butter, sugar and condensed milk. Shortbread which was flour, sugar and butter.
As we grew we had sauce sandwiches, H.P and tomato sauce and sugar on butter sandwiches. We ate rolled oats with sugar mixed in a cup and raw potato for the crunch. I only remember once being able to have a school lunch. I was so jealous of kids that had them. The paper bag with their name on handed in before recess. Sometimes I was sent to fetch them and peeked inside. Cream buns, sandwiches made of thin bread, a pie, a sausage roll. The smell was heaven.
I was once asked back to a girls place after school and she had Sao's and cheese with chutney on and I was shocked that she was allowed to have it. I went home to my Mother and demanded we have normal food like other people. So she did but Saos from then on but we, being so many, quickly devoured them and went back to sauce sandwiches once again.
To Be Continued
