May has been a fairly busy month so far. When the month began, I was in Valencia - my first holiday abroad for three years. I think that will be covered in another post but a very brief overview would read: 'I loved it'. I have some pictures coming, but I'll share this one (borrowed from APB, with thanks). This was the view from our bedroom:
We arrived back in the UK to 8
°C - a slight shock to the system from 25
°C! Post holiday blues hit nearly as soon as I got back to Bristol but didn't last too long. The sunshine this week has helped (although the only time I've had in it were the hours yesterday - work's been manic).
Last Saturday I went to Foyles. Bookshops, like the library, are places that make me feel both very safe and excited. I felt passionate - I'm really missing passion. I'm not really getting it from (m)any area(s) of my life and, as Frank Turner sings, 'life is too short to live without poetry'. It's find poesy or die, I guess. I bought a book by Anais Nin, who I've discovered recently thanks to an a former Royal Mail van in Montpelier, which has one of the most inspiring poems I've read recently graffiti'd on the back. I also bought a rather amusing mug. I struggle to believe that The Chatterley Trial took place in 1960. That's in my Mummy's lifetime! The mug features an image of a poster from Foyles soon after the trial: 'Lady C out of stock. Back in tomorrow', and the quotation below, from a member of the prosecution:
Can you imagine? WOMEN reading literature that contains not only 'C's and 'F's but SEX. Full on sex. That the female ENJOYS. It's incredible.
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The Harsh Yellows hit last Sunday evening and lasted through some of Monday into Tuesday. I can't explain them. I'm trying to clarify what it is, so that I can understand it at least. I fully realise how incredibly self-centred it sounds but, quite frankly, I have no partner or children to think of, and I'm not wholly selfish, so I think I can justify a little when it's something that's with me constantly. Sometimes it feels like a part of me is a bit broken. I'm definitely feeling aware of an id/super-ego/ego balance. It's one part of me that's a little broken; the others are fine and very strong.
This year, I've tried to be very honest with myself. If I think 'I'm not enjoying myself' or 'I'm not that... it's not the kind of person I am', I'll just leave, or make a sensible decision. If, say, I'm out and not enjoying it, and thinking 'I could be at home with some tea and toast now'... that's what I'll do.
What am I? An introvert - that's actually a very suitable word. I love my time alone, I love to sit and read (or watch Boardwalk Empire again...), I love spending time with the right people. I'm not a fan of big groups or of small talk or bullshit. But that doesn't necessarily mean I'm shy. I can handle a work meeting with executives, I can give a presentation (preparation required) and can talk to strangers, without much of a struggle. But I don't need company to thrive, I don't need constant conversation.
So, in that respect, I think it's perfectly acceptable to spend, say, Friday and Saturday nights alone. But then there's another side: slight loneliness. It's not because I'm an introvert. I could go out with people that aren't really 'my kind of people' - who I'm not entirely comfortable with or whose interests differ significantly from mine. However, why should I? I don't need something that, for me, isn't 'real'. Sometimes, I think I'd either have to go out on my own, if I fancy it, or stay in and hide a little - maybe there is a slightly anxious side but it's not at all dominant.
People seem to think it strange that I don't excel in larger groups. I know that some people think I'm rude or aloof or boring. Not entirely true. I prefer smaller groups and one-to-one situations and I invest in my friendships. This is the crux. When I get close to someone or let them in, it's because I feel a connection with them. And I've really really learnt over the last six months or so that some of those people obviously don't. The friendship was important to me but not to them. I suppose I have to accept that that's what they're like - and, in one or two cases, I guess that they got what they wanted from the 'friendship'. Job done. They've not really done anything wrong, either. It's my fault I invested more in it than they did and didn't recognise I'd be a bit burnt if and when they disappeared completely. And I'm very aware that I don't communicate well sometimes - I don't come across as I should, and so they, inevitably, see me in more of a negative light.
Anyway, it's too hot to carry on with these muddled thoughts. I can think of one or two people who would say: 'chill the fuck out. stop over-thinking things'. And to them, I say: 'I'm sorry. But I have to live with myself every single minute of every day, and if there are some aspects of me I need to reflect on, or think through, then I will do that'. If I struggle with myself I'm not going to be able to do or achieve things I want to. I don't want to fill gaps with meaningless activities or people. I don't want someone else to complete me. Another person (say, a partner) should be an extension of myself - not some way of trying to fill a hole ('teehe, sex pun').
If there's something missing or something that isn't quite right, I need to work through it on my own. Identify it, recognise and understand it, embrace it, fix it (if needs be). A large part of that is understanding.
