Periodically I realize I am achingly, heartbreakingly lonely. Despite being very well loved (and sometimes smothered) by my family. I want to go OUT. I want to see PEOPLE. I want to have FRIENDS. I know that I like these things. There have been lots of times when I did like these things, when (I at least thought) I was good at them.
But now, I go out, like, quarterly. It's just so much work. I have so much anxiety before I go, and there's always a certain amount of organization required to actually do it, and then afterwards I think that everyone was annoyed by me and I shouldn't have bothered. And that's if I actually successfully do it at all. Sometimes my idea of being social is to go to a fair, walk around looking at stuff and speaking to no one, and go home. Not because that's what I wanted, but because I didn't know how to do anything else.
This past weekend, I actually did successfully do a social thing. A very social thing! I went to a convention for three whole days, stayed overnight, and interacted with people a lot while I was there. This is my third convention. The previous two involved a lot of wandering around through crowds of people, wishing I could be part of their conversations and not knowing how to join in. This time I felt like I knew better what I was doing. (Also, masks weren't required most places. I cannot explain just how heavily I rely on people being able to see that I am smiling and hear that I am trying to say something.) I met at least half a dozen people, attended three parties, and went to lunch with people once instead of simply scarfing down a granola bar in the hallway.
On the one hand, this was great. I am extremely proud of myself and hope this presages a future where I do this more.
On the other . . . It's hard to explain this without sounding like a horrible person.
But in-person people are just so much more challenging to deal with. They take up space, they have smells, their mouths sometimes make wet noises when they talk, they have annoying physical and verbal tics.
This is just a normal thing about being with people that I had just kinda....forgotten. You learn to not notice many things about people, in the interest of being able to hang out with them. But if you've spent the past several years interacting mainly online, you lose this skill and the physicality of the people around you feels like way too much. I sometimes put my mask back on just because I was disgusted by the very idea of breathing previously breathed air. And even with a mask, the elevator was upsetting. People stand so close.
On top of this, you don't get to be nearly as picky about in-person friends. My online friends are not all very similar to me, but I have many who have almost everything in common with me: background, politics, favorite jokes, interests. If I want to talk about, say, historical costuming, I have at least five people I can chat with online. But if I'm at a convention, even a science fiction convention, sometimes I find people who are not interested in talking about any of the same things I am. Even though we both like science fiction! I'd be like "do you like Bujold?" and they'd be like "no, how do you feel about Heinlein" and eventually we would drift apart because there was nothing.
I can tell doing most of my interactions online is not good for me. It's given me habits that don't serve me with people. However, it annoys me when giving up social media is floated as a solution. It's not like I'm on social media instead of hanging out with people (except that one party recently when I got shy and spent half the time on my phone: oops); I'm on social media because I can't hang out with people at that moment. And social media has brought me all four of my local friends: every single one of them, I know because of the internet. One of those friends introduced me to more people recently and one of them invited me to something. Giving up the internet would not have helped me like this!
But I definitely need to work harder on prioritizing in-person stuff, even if it's horrible at first. It's like I'm slowly starving to death but I've forgotten how to chew and everything tastes too strong. That's not going to get better by continuing to go hungry. It's a thing I have to muscle through. (I hope people take that in the spirit it's meant: "I am really messed up so this is hard but I am doing it because you are great and bring me joy," not, "I am enduring you but hating every moment.")
Anyway, I made a roaring success of this convention and friended two of my new con friends on facebook. I gave my business cards to lots of people and I even showed off my costume on stage. I am proud of all that and I think I'm right to be.
But I also feel like I have a long way to go. I can't go to conventions very often (it cost me over a month of what I make at my job), so I'm going to have to find smaller-scale ways to be a normal person who interacts with other people. Probably I should reach out to my local friends and organize more things. Or actually go to the game store Magic: The Gathering evenings. Or an SCA event. There are so many things I could be going to. I could try, a little bit more than I do.
But probably next week, because it's so hard and I'm so tired.
