Ten Little Chances to be Free (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
tenlittlebullets) wrote2006-08-25 02:21 pm
tenlittlebullets) wrote2006-08-25 02:21 pm
social overload has me in its jaws again.
So I've known for a while now that I have a low threshold for real-life social interaction. I don't find interaction of itself odious or painful, it's just that there's only so much time around other people I can take before I start responding in monosyllables, attempting to hide in a corner, feeling disproportionately stressed and upset, dropping nonverbal discomfort cues, and eventually going completely batshit and wondering why everyone else around me keeps talking to me and doesn't realize I need to run off to my room and read for a little while. Like three days straight. I've tried to be upfront about it now that I've realized what's going on, and if I've explained the issue to someone and they still don't understand that I need buckets of time alone, they can go fuck themselves. But I've always considered the internet something of a social coping device, a way to talk to people without having to deal with the stress of face-to-face interaction. So I didn't realize until now that, although the threshold's higher, I can still take only so much IM chat before everyone I talk to annoys the living piss out of me and I get the urge to tell people really awful things they don't deserve and then go sulk in a corner with only a Brick for company.
I've also realized that I was much happier this time about a year ago, when my computer was kaputt and I had to go down to the library every time I wanted to check my email. Because I could still stay in touch with the online world, but I wasn't constantly connected, and could control myself when I started mindlessly refreshing my friends page or compulsively checking my email. Once the computer was always there again, my range of activities narrowed drastically and I fell back into langour and depression and it was generally not fun. When the option is there, "sitting in front of the computer" becomes my default position and sheer inertia prevents me from doing much else. I have no self-control, do I? But I think part of it was that the internet does trigger my social overload from time to time, and not being constantly online allowed me to get a more complete sense of solitude and examine my ideas without the constant barrage of what others thought. It was more free, in a way. And now I'm a hopeless addict again, bah.
I've also realized that I was much happier this time about a year ago, when my computer was kaputt and I had to go down to the library every time I wanted to check my email. Because I could still stay in touch with the online world, but I wasn't constantly connected, and could control myself when I started mindlessly refreshing my friends page or compulsively checking my email. Once the computer was always there again, my range of activities narrowed drastically and I fell back into langour and depression and it was generally not fun. When the option is there, "sitting in front of the computer" becomes my default position and sheer inertia prevents me from doing much else. I have no self-control, do I? But I think part of it was that the internet does trigger my social overload from time to time, and not being constantly online allowed me to get a more complete sense of solitude and examine my ideas without the constant barrage of what others thought. It was more free, in a way. And now I'm a hopeless addict again, bah.