Sunday, December 04, 2011

No man is an island, but a writer. . . ?

The last several months have passed in a flurry of writing activity.  This is rather unusual for me, in the past--except for a few rare cases--I've struggled to string together much more than a few sentences at any given time.  But I've found that with a new attitude and determination I can produce enough literature to be able to make a career as a writer, depending on if I can produce writing that people will want to read.

However, I've discovered something about myself during this process that I sometimes find disturbing, and it feels weird to be blurting it out, in a public forum for anybody to read, but I have the blogging mask on, so I'll spit it out anyway.

I'm an introvert.  This is something that I've always known.  People drain me.  I like them, I like being around them, but they suck me dry.  Usually I can deal with this as long as I have time alone at the end of the day, a quiet evening to unwind by reading a book, watching a movie, or eating a casserole.  Don't even ask me to do something that requires a lot of interaction with people at the end of the day.  Parties?  If I don't know most of the people there, forget it.  Dance clubs?  Maybe with a bit of caffeine and the encouragement of an attractive lady, but that's it.  I can deal with people, and even like doing so, during the morning and early afternoon, but after that, leave me alone.  That's just how it goes, I like it that way, and I'm happy with it.  As a general rule, I am at peace when I am alone (I'll qualify this by saying that being at home with family, roommates, and/or close friends also brings me peace.  I'm not that much of a hermit).

But writing is changing things for me, and not necessarily in a good way.  Now, because writing is my work, I am spending the entire day alone, isolated in my dwelling, while I struggle to find the right words to tell the right story.  And as much as I love it, that can be a draining process.  When I put away the keyboard at the end of the day I feel tired, mentally.  Can you see the problem here?  Before, be it from work or school, I always had a social network that helped me, as an introvert, to feel connected with humanity during the day and then time alone to gather myself at night.  I don't have that anymore.  I'm alone all the time.

Writing is literally turning me into a recluse.

I feel like Frodo after Galadriel tells him that "to be a ring bearer is to be alone."  Writers seem to have the same curse.  Perhaps I'm overgeneralizing, I'm sure there are social, extroverted writers out there, probably in Hollywood.

For the first time in my life, I'm frustrated by being alone.  But I don't see any way to change this without destroying the system that has allowed me to be as productive as I have been.  Somehow I get the sense that I just can't deal with people in the midst of the writing process.  The pinnacle of this was yesterday at church when a really cute girl, a happy girl with an infectious smile, tried to engage me in conversation after church had ended and I found that I didn't want to talk with her at all.  The whole conversation seemed completely superficial and ridiculous--not that it was, I was just in a dark and melancholy mood--and I wanted to leave.  It was really weird, because I do find her attractive, and I do want to talk to girls, her included, but yesterday I just couldn't.  I don't think I've ever in my life been more crotchety and short tempered than I have been over the last few months.

Luckily, I'm nearing the end of my book; the journey is almost over.  Once finished I can break away from this endless spiral of isolation I've put myself in, though honestly I don't know how I'll do so.  Get a real job I suppose, maybe go on some dates.  That would be nice.

In short, writing is a two edged sword for me right now.  I like it, but it's removing me from the world, which is frustrating because I don't want to be an island.  The end.


Now, after writing all this, I think I've come to understand something.  It's not writing that's making me short tempered.  It's being single at almost thirty.  My focus on writing is just making me more single, that's what is frustrating.

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