"though she be but little"

It's often hard for me to motivate myself to go to pretty much any social gathering. It turns out I believe that I can be awkward and uncomfortable in the sanctity of my own home without really involving anyone else in the trainwreck that is me trying to attempt small talk.

But, I also love the idea of housewarmings, and there are some awesome people going to be there, and I need to practice being in groups of people, because I've let that skill set (and by skill set I mean tightfisted grasp on my anxiety) lapse, and, well, I had a fantastic time at a gathering last Sunday, and maybe that's a thing I could replicate some small part of. Though I have a feeling that I won't be playing word games with anyone.

I think I exaggerate my boundaries, claim discomfort where there really isn't any, because it's a way to control my surroundings, a way to lower other people's expectations of me so I can be fairly certain I'll hit whatever mark they want me to. And then, something happens, and I've got that fist under my breastbone feeling, or that I'm going to cry if I don't feel safe(r) in the next ten minutes, or the incredibly specific and panic-inducing fear taste in my mouth, and I realize even if I exaggerate a little, there is a kernel of truth in there.

And, weirdly enough, remembering that is actually emotional growth on my part. I no longer force myself by means of internalizing the voice of everyone who has ever been disappointed in me to push through things that do not make me happy, and feign happiness while doing so.

I worry about being 'that girl' all the time. The one who stalks off because she wants someone to chase her, the one who feigns reluctance not because she is reluctant, but because she needs the ego boost of someone persuading her to do something, the one who says everything but what she means. Which isn't to say I don't want to be chased, or persuade, or have someone figure out what I mean when I say something else entirely. It took me years and years to give up on the idea of Light reading my mind, and buying me the perfect present, or knowing how I wanted him to be the tank in awkward social situations without me ever explaining it.

And a little of that comes out when I post these open-ended questions to the internet and no one responds, or when I send unresponded-to messages by virtually any medium. I offer, because I'm excited about something, no one seems to share my excitement, I get sad and feel pathetic, and then I remember that the excitement actually pre-dated the lack of response and can usually get excited again. (lather, rinse, repeat)

so, I guess I don't know if I'm actually going to persuade (bully?) myself into going today. At the moment, I think I'd rather regret going than regret not-going, but it's really still up in the air.

"though she be but little"

It's often hard for me to motivate myself to go to pretty much any social gathering. It turns out I believe that I can be awkward and uncomfortable in the sanctity of my own home without really involving anyone else in the trainwreck that is me trying to attempt small talk.

But, I also love the idea of housewarmings, and there are some awesome people going to be there, and I need to practice being in groups of people, because I've let that skill set (and by skill set I mean tightfisted grasp on my anxiety) lapse, and, well, I had a fantastic time at a gathering last Sunday, and maybe that's a thing I could replicate some small part of. Though I have a feeling that I won't be playing word games with anyone.

I think I exaggerate my boundaries, claim discomfort where there really isn't any, because it's a way to control my surroundings, a way to lower other people's expectations of me so I can be fairly certain I'll hit whatever mark they want me to. And then, something happens, and I've got that fist under my breastbone feeling, or that I'm going to cry if I don't feel safe(r) in the next ten minutes, or the incredibly specific and panic-inducing fear taste in my mouth, and I realize even if I exaggerate a little, there is a kernel of truth in there.

And, weirdly enough, remembering that is actually emotional growth on my part. I no longer force myself by means of internalizing the voice of everyone who has ever been disappointed in me to push through things that do not make me happy, and feign happiness while doing so.

I worry about being 'that girl' all the time. The one who stalks off because she wants someone to chase her, the one who feigns reluctance not because she is reluctant, but because she needs the ego boost of someone persuading her to do something, the one who says everything but what she means. Which isn't to say I don't want to be chased, or persuade, or have someone figure out what I mean when I say something else entirely. It took me years and years to give up on the idea of Light reading my mind, and buying me the perfect present, or knowing how I wanted him to be the tank in awkward social situations without me ever explaining it.

And a little of that comes out when I post these open-ended questions to the internet and no one responds, or when I send unresponded-to messages by virtually any medium. I offer, because I'm excited about something, no one seems to share my excitement, I get sad and feel pathetic, and then I remember that the excitement actually pre-dated the lack of response and can usually get excited again. (lather, rinse, repeat)

so, I guess I don't know if I'm actually going to persuade (bully?) myself into going today. At the moment, I think I'd rather regret going than regret not-going, but it's really still up in the air.