“We don’t always have a choice on how we get to know one another.  Sometimes people fall into our lives cleanly — as if out of the sky, or as if there were a direct flight from Heaven to Earth — the same sudden way we lose people, who once seemed they would always be part of our lives.”

—  John Irving in Last Night in Twisted River

I have issues.

Ok. If you have read more than three of my posts, you probably have figured that out on your own already. By the way, thank you for staying after that realization, oh Brave One…

I am a social person. An extrovert. A vampire. I need to feed on people’s energy to feel alive. I revel in the small connections I make with friends and strangers. I become a great conversationalist. I am bubbly. I am chatty. I am flirty. I am fucking hilarious. I get a high.

I am also a recluse. An introvert. A hermit crab. I crash every time after I have battled through a social occasion. I replay everything inside my head. Over and over again. Did I say anything wrong? Did I offend anybody? Hurt somebody’s feeling? When I went crazy and all “I don’t fucking care what people think of me”, did I do something stupid? Was it obvious I am an insecure needy hanger-on? Did I come off genuine? Too genuine? Too genuine so as to come off as fake? Dripping with molasses? Was I too much of myself? And which one at that?

I don’t know why — Even though I’ll be the first person to tell you, all Chinese wisdom and Zen shit, that

There will always be somebody who dislikes you, for no reason at all, no matter how hard you try to get on their good side.

— I am dastardly bothered by the possibility that out there, there is somebody who hates my gut. This is a no-win situation of the pathological proportion. For example, when I am driving, I worry about what the other drivers will think of me. Will they be pissed if they are waiting for me to go through the intersection to make a left turn and I make them miss the light? I floor the car upon that thought.

I imagine the other driver thinking to themselves, “Wow. Appreciate that gesture, kind albeit reckless driver!”

Nah. Just kidding. I may be crazy but I am not delusional. I am fully aware of the futility. And the possibility this may be bordering on psychosis. (Oh, the irony…)

It takes one day for me to recover from each hour of my putting myself out there…  I was surrounded by strangers (women nonetheless) and more importantly, people who I genuinely would like to become friends with, for two whole days last weekend…

… … …

Yeah… This is gonna take a while…

I could not understand why I have been restless and jittery and utterly exhausted and prone to crying this week until I sat down and started typing out these words above.

I am going through withdrawal. The detox process has begun.

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* I thought the whole night and decided to turn the comment function off. I did not write this post to fish for more compliments which many of you have kindly bestowed on me, deservedly or not. I just needed to get this out of my head, hoping doing so will help speed up the process or at least stem the tide that’s dragging me further away from what is deemed normal.

** No worries. I am ok. I am always ok.