…is pretty much the new version of someone telling me that I need to get a life. Which is probably true – kind of.
I have a lot more free time now, even though I work full time. It suits me just fine and yet it doesn’t. I love being in my own company. I spend a lot of time reading and writing – both of which I thoroughly enjoy. There are days, like today, when I can sit in my room listening to my vinyl collection, giving myself up to my kindle and I really am content.
But the problem with being an introvert who likes people is that it gets lonely – especially when your free time doesn’t match with the free time of others. Then someone drops a very unsubtle: ‘you need to find something to do at the weekends.’ This immediately leads to a bout of self-loathing and doubt. I feel like I’m a sad act, a wet wipe, whatever you want to call it.
When I crave company and nobody’s around, I suddenly don’t have a purpose. I’m not interested in finishing that sci-fi book, or writing anything. Then that instruction rings around in my ears and I grow frantic because I don’t have any hobbies – or at least, the same hobbies sociable people do. I don’t have a group of girlfriends that I can go on a night out with, I don’t play team sports or play an instrument. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have a “thing,” just because my interests aren’t very social.
A lot of the things I’d like to pick up are things you can do in your own company – that’s just the way I am, I guess. But I’m starting to perceive them in a negative light because it means no friends are required.
There are, of course, things that I’d secretly really like to try out and the simple answer to this rhetorical blog is just to go out on my own and try something new – which to me is just terrifying. Meeting new people, trying something new and looking stupid? I’m too self-conscious, committed on a half arsed level and will probably prefer to return to my books just a few days later. Or, I could really enjoy myself and in a really weird way, I think I’m probably more scared of that.
I increasingly feel a suffocating pressure of having to tell people that I’m about to have a jam-packed, interesting weekend – which I’m probably not. I’m slowly beginning to feel embarrassed about having a largely introverted nature and it’s quite a sad state of affairs really. Or maybe this is me on the verge of wanting to do something new, but needing an extra push to get there. I don’t really know – but it’s been nice to write.