People

Do you know the feeling of being both lonely and peopled out at the same time?

If yes, welcome. Welcome to the club, sweet sensitive introvert. Come sit with me. I have coffee. And I won't talk.

It's been a long week. I had company, I had volunteer commitments. I had places to be and people to see. And to a lot of people that probably sounds amazing. Fun. High energy.

All I want to do is curl up in a ball with a blanket over my head.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE volunteering at my kids' school. I love being their Girl Scout leader. Being in a room with all of those kids, and even their parents (sorry grown ups, you really do make less sense to me) gives me a feeling of wholeness.

And it gives me the equivalent of a hangover.

I walk out the door and all I need to do is hide. And rehash everything that I could possibly have said or done wrong. I spend hours completely drained and also beating myself with a mental stick. What are all the things I did wrong? What is everyone saying about me as soon as I leave the room?

So. It seems bizarre to say I'm lonely. I've seen people every night this week.

But it's just been so long since I've been seen.

I am lonely. I am longing for connection. And I want to do get that connection without having to leave a dark room or in any way risk humiliating myself.

Sometimes, that makes the Internet wonderful. But it also makes the Internet dangerous. Because when I come to rely on pocket friends to meet my emotional needs, I withdraw even more in "real life." Even when I'm out in the world doing real things, I'm not completely there. I'm not sharing myself with the people around me. Because it's so freaking scary.

But, the Internet isn't enough. And I need connection. I need to be seen. Which is going to require peopling.

I'm just going to spend a few more minutes under this blanket first.