Guest post by Diane M. Graham
So, I’m walking along in life, minding my own business and all of a sudden, I have to be social beyond the unit of people I call family. The Unit knows my flaws. They know my fears. They even know my hands and feet are relatively normal. It’s my fingers and toes that are freakishly short. I even feel comfortable enough around the Unit to clip the nails on my freakishly short toes. But what about YOU…the “world” in which I am suppose to socialize with?
You all scare the tar out of me.
Bet you didn’t think that of me, did you? You might even think a person as “outgoing” and talkative as me has no issues interacting with all of YOU. That simply isn’t the case. As the title of this here blog states, I constantly feel as though I am juggling on a tightrope over a pit of angry sharks. Often I say stupid (meaning I do not consider others, rather selfish) things too loud and even more often I piss people off. I do not always play well with others. I am sometimes too pushy and am constantly trying to keep that in check. I over-compensate where I lack and constantly beat back the competitive nature I was born with. Of course, I also wear my heart on my sleeve and people usually don’t have to ask what I am feeling. I think I do that because I try to treat others like I want to be treated.
Do I really want to know what people are thinking?
Hmm…maybe…maybe not. It’s always a crap-shoot. Never know what will bunch a pair of Under-Roos or cause instantaneous weeping.
Then, I have to factor in the guilt I feel if I spend more time with all of YOU than with my Unit. This makes my heartbeat speed and my palms sweaty. I tend to work in extremes. When I really put myself into something, I give my all, and that leaves little room for much else beyond basic household chores that no matter what anyone says, they will not get done if I do not do or delegate them. If I latch on to my Unit, I then feel guilty that I haven’t given all of YOU more of my time.
Don’t even get me started on marketing verses writing.
Will this ever get easier? I bet not, but I sure do hope there is really a pool of floaty toys below my tightrope and the sharks are really goldfish. Or…the sharks have Chiclets like me. 😉