You know that feeling when you want something and you don’t know what?
When everything you normally do just isn’t quite enough?
Yep, that one.
I haz me some of that.
I woke up at the ass-crack of dawn this morning and as I drank my morning cappuccino and trawled through buzzfeed, fetlife and facebook, I couldn’t stop thinking about rope. That’s probably because I’m going to a rope party tonight and am going to get me a rope fix. (Yay!) but anyway, I’ve had an itch since about Wednesday for something, a new experience, a challenge, something meaty I can sink my teeth into and I don’t know what. I thought it might be rope or a beating that I was pining for, but I still can’t put my finger on what I need-want.
That’s the problem with being an experience junkie – I constantly need a new fix. I get bored easily, have a short attention span and getting into a rut makes me feel claustrophobic and angry.
Now that I’ve settled into my new digs, M and I have gotten back to that point exactly where we were when I up and left, work is sucky, gym is repetitive and everything is just chugging along, I need to force myself out of the rut, because, you know, life is short and you need to enjoy it.
The ironic thing is the introverted, anxiety-ridden, socially-awkward, painfully-indecisive part of me gets into a life-and-death struggle with the part that wants to get out and do stuff. Plucking up the courage to call the person who offered to pop my rock-climbing cherry or walking in the door for that aerial yoga class alone is just often too hard and so I hide at home and stew that I’m not getting my itches scratched.
Putting a name to what I am, an introvert, has been very satisfying. I used to think I was a bit spethial or a bit weird. I didn’t understand why being around people, being sociable, forming friendships and relationships was so hard for me.
The mantra of the introvert: I want to be alone but not lonely is so very,very true. I crave connections with people but often can’t maintain them and I can understand why people find it draining to try and keep a friendship with me when all I do is act like a big black hole. I’ll wheedle out of social invitations, not return your emails or phone calls, not invite you anywhere, not randomly text you to ask how you are…because…well…it all feels demanding and too much. But I’ll love it when you text me, email me, invite me to go somewhere.
It makes me feel less lonely, but I still want to be alone.