Make the world go away

The first time I heard someone say, “He lives inside his head,” I related instantly. That sentence clarified for me a condition I’ve known since childhood, a personality trait that I now know is labeled ”introversion.” If you were to search this blog for the keyword “introvert,” you’d find that I’ve written about this subject a number of times.

I’m quite contented with the head in which I live, except for the fact that I have to stick it out into the real world all too frequently, and the real world isn’t always a safe place for us introverts. It’s noisy, it’s hectic, and there is entirely too much talking going on. It’s people, people everywhere and not a place to think.

Lately, the noise and confusion of my days, not to mention the televised evening news, have made me spend my evenings turning inward, regrouping and searching inside my head for the coping skills I’ll need when the mornings roll around. Having had years of experience in dealing with copious amounts of crap, my coping skills are highly developed. Chief among them is the ability to raise an umbrella of silence and serenity over my head.

When I’m under that umbrella, it feels right to talk as little as possible. When my mind is cluttered with a thousand random thoughts, the silence helps me to think more clearly, to evaluate which thoughts and ideas have value and which ones are dragging me down. Once I have them neatly categorized, I can “accentuate the positive, eliminate the negative,” and regain the sense of balance necessary to navigate my life.

Unfortunately, I’m realizing that when I don’t feel like talking, I don’t feel like writing, either. For a blogger, that isn’t a good thing. A “genuine” writer, I suppose, would feel compelled to write down the troubling thoughts, to dissect them in an attempt to discover their origin and their meaning. It might even be therapeutic. But I certainly wouldn’t want to write that stuff here, and, frankly, I’m not inclined to expend that kind of energy.

Energy is another thing that's been in short supply lately. I’ve done what I’ve needed to do at work, and at home I’ve accomplished the bare minimum necessary to take care of myself and my dogs. How little I’ve actually done at home was brought to my attention a couple of days ago when I found myself (of necessity) eating microwaved enchiladas with an iced tea spoon.

The dishwasher has since been turned on, and the laundry will get done today. Before the weekend is over, I’ll dust the furniture (although I’m tempted to plant flower seeds on one end table, just as an experiment). I’ve paid my bills, I’ve...um...what else have I done? Oh, I’ve written this.

It’s a start.

Me, today.

Me, soon I hope.