By Mike Huang

The terms “socially acceptable” and “shut in” seem completely contradictory and at odds each other (much like Mitt Romney of yesteryear and Mitt of the 2012 election season), but I’ve managed to find that balance of staying just far enough under the radar for people to not have noticed that I haven’t been around for the majority of the last 5 months and counting but hermit-like enough to develop a legitimate fear of the sun. I feel like I should clarify what exactly what a Socially Acceptable shut in is, but to properly do that you really have to break it down into its 2 essential constituent parts.

What does it mean to be socially acceptable? Well, the answer is right there in front of you, to be accepted by Society at large. For people around you and humanity as a whole to a lesser extent to approve of that which is in question. I’m going to narrow this society down a bit further to the US as what is socially acceptable in this country (gum chewing in public) is either illegal or bad taste in other cultures. To put it in a metaphorical sense it is to not make a splash in the public pool when you get in, or to make little enough of a ripple that other people don’t notice.

There are many different types of shut ins for many different reasons at many different levels. I’d describe myself as a disinterested shut in with a power level of over 9000 (kudos to you who got the reference). A shut in is also self-explanatory. It is simply a person who shuts him or herself in from the outside world, in a “safe” (or at the very least controlled) environment. A person may shut themselves in for any reason whatsoever, however irrational, for a completely arbitrary amount of time usually until necessity calls for them to make a quick trip out and retreat to their “safe zone”.

Why do 2 very easily understandable terms become incomprehensible jumblefuck when used together? Because the ideas are completely opposing. Normal functioning people go outside all the time. For work, for play, or just to be outside to be around other people. There’s even a term for people who have spent so much time indoors that they yearn to be out and about. Cabin fever is real, and yes it is transmittable through the air as well as close contact. Human beings are social creatures. I don’t remember passing my Sociology 101 class but there’s one iota of information that I retained it’s that human beings are social creatures. It’s encoded in our DNA. It’s what’s helped our species as a whole survive thousands of years of change and evolve into the dominant organism of our planet today.

My favorite allegory for the concept of the strength of many over the singular is the old Chinese story of a father held out a single chopstick to his son and asked him to break it. The son obliged (Chinese sons usually do, see “The Asian F”), and then the father handed him a tight bundle of chopsticks and asked him to break it again. No matter how much the child tried he could not, hence demonstrating 1 of 2 things: Chinese parents are dicks, and that when many come together it is stronger and more resilient than the lonesome one. See, I get it. I get the concept. The idea of society is not foreign to me. I used to be a perfectly normal functioning member of society who went out and… socialized. I just don’t care anymore. I think a better way to put it is that the outside world doesn’t interest me anymore, people in particular.

I get out often enough to collect a paycheck, which in the Army (despite what you see in the recruiting commercials), isn’t actually all that often. I go outside to buy food, out of necessity; and I think this is the key part, I oblige my friends often enough once every few weeks or months to go outside and consume alcohol together. We’re in the Army, most things we do when we’re home revolves around alcohol (and then they wonder why there are so many traffic fatalities), so I’ll allow my friends to drag me out of my room which they have affectionately named “the dungeon”, put actual pants on, and go out to a bar or restaurant where I can proceed to get hammered so that 1 of 2 things happen: I pass out drunk somewhere, like in the front row of a strip club, or I’m so sloshed that I have no idea where I am or what I’m doing, usually both but not in that order. In either case I drink to a point where I don’t even realize I’m outside anymore, defeating the purpose of socializing in the first place. Usually at this point they drag (or 2 man carry, whichever is more efficient) my ass back into my room where I die in whichever position they decided to leave me in (which would explain how one time I woke up with my legs spread, supported up against the wall, one shoe off and what I’m hoping was a beer stain on my pants).

I have some of the best friends in the world. I love these fuckers to death, and they mean well. They can see past the façade and they attempt to break me out of this shell that I managed to put myself in. They are patient too, because no matter how many times I turn their offers to go out to grab a drink or attempt to get some action at the local country bars they keep asking. Regular patron saints they are. But none of these activities interest me. Or at the least interest me enough to step outside of my comfort zone. So people see me often enough to not question when the last time I really talked to anyone was. Or when the last time I ate something that wasn’t microwaved. My splash into the pool causes barely a ripple, so the other occupants don’t even notice I’m in the water. The lifeguard doesn’t even notice that I don’t really know how to swim.

So what does a Socially Acceptable Shut in do? Nothing that would upset society at large of course, wouldn’t want to cause too big a splash. No, he doesn’t do hard drugs, or abuse alcohol, or other living beings nor himself. He just plants himself in a computer chair that has since had a back massager added to it in front of a self-built PC rig and plays video games and watches Netflix. All day. All night. These are perfectly normal things that normal people do, for a few hours at a time, until they go do something else, except for me there is no “something else”.

Obviously I know this situation isn’t ideal. There’s probably a whole bunch of different things going on bubbling underneath the surface, but at least now they can’t say I never told anyone! I think I’ll watch Firefly on Netflix again.

Mike Huang is a staff writer for SHSF whenever Joe can coax him into writing. You can find him in his room covered in cobwebs.