A few ponderings of my mind that I feel the need to get out before I get to the heart of this blog:
1. I'm not at all the party animal I'd like to be sometimes. I can go out and have a good time, but once it gets too crowded and too late, I get overstimulated and everything stops being fun and just gets tedious and exhausting. I start to get quiet and people always think there's something wrong with me suddenly. But the truth of the matter is that I'm just plain spent and need to go to sleep.
2. Is it bad that, in spite of everyone talking about the beach and getting tan for the summer, I really don't care about getting tan? 'Cause I don't. I'm Irish, Scottish, Italian, German, Welsh, Portuguese, and Cherokee. Notice how 2/3 of my heritage comes from light-skinned European descent. I'm a fair-skinned, mostly caucasian girl who's come to terms with the fact that I'm not genetically made to be tan. In fact, I sizzle up like a slice of bacon in the sun. So, stop telling me I need to go out in the sun and raise my chances of getting skin cancer so I can conform to your ridiculous American standard of beauty. And no I do not want to spend money on a spray tan, either.
3. I'm relapsing into old patterns of behavior that are not at all endearing. It's back to the point where I'm obsessing over the same demons and insecurities ad nauseam. And drinking alcohol makes it worse.
With number three having been said, I am relapsing into nothing more than a royal pain, and therefore I feel the need to hide away for a while. It's a damage control thing. I need time to cool off and regroup before I say something dangerous and ruin my entire life as I know it for the near-future. It's also so I can rethink my attitude a little bit, refocus myself and get back on track and back in control. Lord knows a less than stellar attitude saps productivity and general well-being, and I'm the last person who needs that with the 8,000 tasks I'm taking on or trying to take on.
But mostly, I'm a perfectionist. I hide away in an attempt to control who sees my flaws. Honestly, I'm such a pain the ass when I get like this that it's really just better to spare people the grueling task of putting up with me altogether. After all, I am supposed to be perfect. I mean, God forbid anyone see that I'm a human being! How absurd!
All kidding aside, it's a problem folks (or folk, because nobody reads this)! A problem that I'm still trying to get a handle on after realizing it's a problem a few years ago. I think it has to do with being an only child who was constantly the center of attention. I feel like everyone's watching me, but past the constant parental supervision age nobody really gives a rat's fanny that I'm borderline psychotic some days. Which is a relief, if you think about. However, old habits die hard as they say. Having gotten this off my chest, I'm gonna go disappear for a while.
Oh, and you never read this post by the way. If word gets out that I'm not really perfect, people might judge.