i am an introvert. i think before i speak, often overanalyzing myself. a great majority of my thoughts are never spoken. i am quiet. i am reserved. i pretend ... a lot.

i prepare myself for social gatherings by having imagined interactions. it takes every ounce of energy to be social with people ... to smile ... to laugh ... to engage - even with family members. with strangers, the struggle is 10-fold. i push myself outside of my comfort zone to appear friendly, outgoing, social. but when i go home, that's how i re-charge. an author put it so beautifully,

and there were other moments when she would catch herself thinking about her life as if it was a party she couldn't wait to leave. if she lived to say 80, then she was nearly halfway there. death was the hot bath you promised yourself while you endured small talk and uncomfortable shoes. you could stop pretending to have a good time when you were dead. (liane moriarty)

that is often my life, just getting through one social interaction to the next until i can go home. so, what i experienced sunday has taken a lot out of me, i am not exaggerating when i say i am beatdown, emotionally beat-down. a seemingly pleasant experience to a "normal" person whips me, so an unpleasant experience; it nearly kills me. i certainly feel, at times, like i'd rather be dead. this is my struggle. this is my life. it's what i push through day-by-day. and to be attacked, especially after reading book about someone's life who is quite similar, it's almost too much to bear.

it's a shame people can't be more empathetic. you never know what someone is going through ... so, think twice and be kind. i am checking out of social media until i re-charge. see you soon.  

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