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juushikaI went to bed last night feeling frustrated and discontent. I think that I may be socially overextended—which both predictable and impressive. It takes nothing to overextend me, a hour of conversation exhausts me: I put your average introvert to shame. But lately what's been taxing me is half a dozen friendships, encounters with complete strangers, and hours of conversation.
Pandora just started play "Dog Days Are Over." I cannot make this shit up. So that's it, really. You have read this post before.
I am simultaneously running high on constant social interaction and absolutely exhausted in its wake. I don't know moderation, don't know balance. I don't know how to be social—I have very little practice. I am drowning in it. I am hyper and active, and then tired and miserable, and then exhausted and restless because the social activity has stopped. Things and contacts and letters and people are falling by the wayside, I am a dozen types of behind. I woke up this morning (early afternoon) so lump-like that a shower seemed like work and I appreciated it because I felt again lethargic instead like I'd been shaken so hard that I couldn't stand by my legs were still trembling.
Express says: "the changes in life.. are for better though."
They are.
I'm drowning, but I'm drowning in love. My complaint is that there's too many people I adore, or plan to; too many conversations to have, too many joys too share, too many hours to spend talking and giggling and spreading love through the world. I should probably be finding a better balance—between the ups and downs, between the social and the non, between games and reading, between being online and off. I hope that comes with time. I think it will, because in the very near future I'm looking at Portland and![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
century_eyes's home, to frequent real-world social contact with the person who began this all—and that I think will help form a more solid foundation. I don't have that, yet, and that means that my late nights are frantically discontent, and I'm stressed and restless, and I am so fucking scared.
But today, I talked with Sabrina in Tinychat, because she is so thoughtful and so tolerant of my shyness that she gave me a chance to try out the program in safe company, and so gave us a chance to have our first real-time conversation. I played Halo with Express—and these days we slip on our headsets by default even though five years ago when we met we would have been terrified of the thought. I didn't get to emails as a result, I haven't written in a while and I need to, and I've only read about 50 pages today. I will probably find it very hard to sleep tonight.
Running, running, running. I need to. The dog days are over.
Pandora just started play "Dog Days Are Over." I cannot make this shit up. So that's it, really. You have read this post before.
I am simultaneously running high on constant social interaction and absolutely exhausted in its wake. I don't know moderation, don't know balance. I don't know how to be social—I have very little practice. I am drowning in it. I am hyper and active, and then tired and miserable, and then exhausted and restless because the social activity has stopped. Things and contacts and letters and people are falling by the wayside, I am a dozen types of behind. I woke up this morning (early afternoon) so lump-like that a shower seemed like work and I appreciated it because I felt again lethargic instead like I'd been shaken so hard that I couldn't stand by my legs were still trembling.
Express says: "the changes in life.. are for better though."
They are.
I'm drowning, but I'm drowning in love. My complaint is that there's too many people I adore, or plan to; too many conversations to have, too many joys too share, too many hours to spend talking and giggling and spreading love through the world. I should probably be finding a better balance—between the ups and downs, between the social and the non, between games and reading, between being online and off. I hope that comes with time. I think it will, because in the very near future I'm looking at Portland and
century_eyes's home, to frequent real-world social contact with the person who began this all—and that I think will help form a more solid foundation. I don't have that, yet, and that means that my late nights are frantically discontent, and I'm stressed and restless, and I am so fucking scared.But today, I talked with Sabrina in Tinychat, because she is so thoughtful and so tolerant of my shyness that she gave me a chance to try out the program in safe company, and so gave us a chance to have our first real-time conversation. I played Halo with Express—and these days we slip on our headsets by default even though five years ago when we met we would have been terrified of the thought. I didn't get to emails as a result, I haven't written in a while and I need to, and I've only read about 50 pages today. I will probably find it very hard to sleep tonight.
Running, running, running. I need to. The dog days are over.
