I'm so tired of talking about myself on this blog!! It feels so stale and boring here. Post after post about my own internal machinations, leading you to conclude that I'm possibly the most self-absorbed person you've ever (not) met. But like Gilbert's mother, I wasn't always like this.
It's not even anything like how I want it to be.
But when I haven't been doing a whole lot out in the world recently, there's not a whole lot to write about. And so I fall back instead on writing about my internal world - which in some respects is way more interesting and fun and awesome to me than what's happening out there. It just doesn't make as interesting material, especially if you've read it all before. And really, to be honest, what is not rehashing after five years of blogging?
Still, writing frustrations aside, the internal world and the external world are totally interlinked. Whatever is going on in here tends to get projected out there. The world can appear so different on different days that it's amazing to consider that it's the same place. And the interlinking of that rich internal world with the outer world I guess is why I feel like I can be alone and yet communing with the whole world at the same time. It's pretty special.
The problem with being so much on the inside is that going back out into the real world is a shock to the system. Man, it's loud out there. And it's a bit scary. I go through this recalibration over and over again. Go in, go out. Go in, go out. When the wave is receding and its time to hit the sand again, going back into the topside world I feel more vulnerable than when I was there last time. Going back out in to the world gets a bit daunting again. I never thought I'd ever say that.
I'm going to the football this evening, which means a train trip from one end of the line to the other. I miss catching trains and observing people. Which is why I'm looking forward to taking a pad of paper with me and observing and scribbling my way through the train ride. Of course, the fact that I am consciously intending to do this will probably mean that nothing of any note will happen ;)
I'm maybe catching up with some friends on Saturday night. Which will be lovely. But I feel nervous about it. See, this is the negative side-effect of so much time alone - when I go out and meet up with others, even friends, beforehand I feel small and thin-skinned and like the me that I experience in my communal solitude and which is comforting is nowhere to be found, and the Susie that interacts with others is claggy-mouthed and clotted and that other people can never really see me. Which is true, in a way. But then the anxiety about that is just a passing thought or a feeling, I guess. I don't need to heed it in any way other than acknowledging its presence. It just feels strange that it's there at all.