New occasions teach new duties
Posted on September 14th, 2011
But apparently, I’m not learning. You see, I am becoming a recluse.
Well, sort of.
I don’t dread leaving home: I go out every day (and get stir crazy if I don’t).
I don’t dread people (although I have a dismal view of the human race in general, I enjoy people one-on-one). I interact with people in my building, my neighborhood, the boutiques and stores. We spend a lot of time at museums, which means a lot of interaction. And of course, we have a small circle of friends.
But other things on my calendar, even things that I’ve signed myself up for, things that are useful or good for me, like a class or a CLE?* I dread these things. For days and days in advance. It’s not that I’m shy; I’m not. It’s not that I don’t like talking to new people; I do. It’s not that I don’t like trying new things, either.
I just don’t want to do these things. In ye olde days, when I was overbooked and oversubscribed, I would just fit them in, grit my teeth, and suck it up. Now that I’m not? I resent the intrusion into my life. Deeply. (Tip: it’s a lot easier to get a busy person to do something than someone who isn’t busy. I have no idea why.)
I meant to discuss this during therapy this week, but I got sidelined by talking about 2006 instead. Right now, the only answer I have for myself is to 1) not sign up for anything and 2) let go of the guilt and self-judgment. It probably makes sense that, given how little we see M, I would resent anything that would take time away. Still, I don’t remember feeling like this before. Am I getting old, cranky, get-off-my-lawn boring?
(No, don’t answer that!)
*This is not to include therapy, friends, getting my hair cut, a massage, a doctor’s visit, or things like that: I experience no anxiety about any of them, and look forward to most.