people?
I'm learning to be around people these days. For those of you who have spent any time at all around me, this might seem like a weird thing to say. I've always been a people person--a 'closet introvert' who needed a bit of time alone to recharge, but I spent quite a bit of time around people. People who were not the internet.
And here's the issue. The internet has become like a person to me. I have 6 blogs (about half of which have won bloggies) that I obsessively check several times a day. Because, well, sometimes they post more than once, and heaven forbid my new internet friends (who all have thousands of readers) might say something and I would miss it. I tell stories about them to my parents or my sister, guffawing over the ridiculousness of Dooce's daughter or the crazy life of the guy who writes Waiterrant.
The nice thing about having these imaginary friends who are so kind as to give me new stories each day, is that I don't actually have to interact with them; I don't have to be afraid of offending or hurting them. These days, every conversation with a real live human being requires more self-control than I use in an entire day at home, avoiding the pantry despite my grumbling tummy. Maybe it's because I've spent 3 months with little human contact, or maybe it's still a side effect of the nasty drug, but I don't know what to say to people anymore.
A little over a month ago my friend Annajoy came over and I told her a story from when my mom took me to the mall and I had to physically restrain myself from insulting a stranger's outfit. I'm incredibly proud of myself for not flipping out at another student in my class on Monday night. Phone conversations are almost worse than actual meetings because I'm often thinking of other things rather than putting my full attention into not being rude.
And I hate being rude. Sarcastic; sure. Witty or Clever with a bit of a bite; gladly. But I've already lost too many friends and acquaintances through this illness....I don't want to lose the ones that have actually made an effort to.
So I'm learning how to talk to people again. Woohoo
And here's the issue. The internet has become like a person to me. I have 6 blogs (about half of which have won bloggies) that I obsessively check several times a day. Because, well, sometimes they post more than once, and heaven forbid my new internet friends (who all have thousands of readers) might say something and I would miss it. I tell stories about them to my parents or my sister, guffawing over the ridiculousness of Dooce's daughter or the crazy life of the guy who writes Waiterrant.
The nice thing about having these imaginary friends who are so kind as to give me new stories each day, is that I don't actually have to interact with them; I don't have to be afraid of offending or hurting them. These days, every conversation with a real live human being requires more self-control than I use in an entire day at home, avoiding the pantry despite my grumbling tummy. Maybe it's because I've spent 3 months with little human contact, or maybe it's still a side effect of the nasty drug, but I don't know what to say to people anymore.
A little over a month ago my friend Annajoy came over and I told her a story from when my mom took me to the mall and I had to physically restrain myself from insulting a stranger's outfit. I'm incredibly proud of myself for not flipping out at another student in my class on Monday night. Phone conversations are almost worse than actual meetings because I'm often thinking of other things rather than putting my full attention into not being rude.
And I hate being rude. Sarcastic; sure. Witty or Clever with a bit of a bite; gladly. But I've already lost too many friends and acquaintances through this illness....I don't want to lose the ones that have actually made an effort to.
So I'm learning how to talk to people again. Woohoo