Not a Hermit.

It’s sometimes difficult for me to determine the reasons why I decline an invitation. Do I really not want to go out, or is my isolation symptom acting up? Is it ok to stay at home on a Saturday night because I’m tired, or does that mean that I’m retreating into my own little world? Will it hurt my recovery if I decide not to go out? Or, conversely, am I going out to avoid something? Am I only wanting to be out of the house so that I feel more productive? These are the sorts of questions that pop into my head when I consider my options, when I think about how to spend my time.

I’ve always had difficulty just hanging around the house. Yesterday I was in my house from noon until eight, which was a huge accomplishment. Yes, I had company for four of those hours, but regardless, I was in my house. I wasn’t out making myself busy, I wasn’t wandering aimlessly, I wasn’t trying to appear like I had something productive I had to be doing. Staying home is often a triumphant occurance for me. However, there is that niggling feeling that I should be out. That every night I should have plans with friends, that I should be doing this, that I shouldn’t be doing that. I’m a chronic overthinker, and I can sometimes get in my head about my reasons for doing one thing or the other.

Something I’ve noticed in my recovery is that not every day is going to be a fantastic one. Not every moment is perfect, and there’s not always something to do. I need to step back and remind myself, at times, that though I might enjoy being social, I don’t always need to be social. No, there are definitely moments when staying home, putting on some trackpants and popping “Moulin Rouge” into the DVD player is exactly the right thing to do. There are evenings when it really is better to go out when I don’t feel like it, too. When I’m in my head, stewing over some little decision, sometimes it’s absolutely necessary to use opposite action to force myself out of a rut. It’s necessary for me to acknowledge, too, that even when I do go out, I’m not always going to have the best time. Getting over my extremely high expectations of every single situation is an ongoing struggle, one I may never completely conquer. There are going to be nights when I put on a fancy dress and actually try something new with my hair, and I’ll end up at home at one a.m. wondering why the heck I chose to go out. Luckily, there will also be nights when I feel the beat of the bassline pumping through the floor and lose myself in a night of revelry with my friends.

Socks in flats. Sometimes I get cold feet.

There will be times when I make the wrong decision. Sometimes I stay in when I might have had more fun going out, sometimes I go out and I might have had a lovely evening at home. There are nights when I wear an outfit that makes me feel dorky, like wearing socks in flats in the winter, and there are times when I could care less what those around me think about my footwear. As it turns out, I’m a pretty quiet person, and if there are nights when I’d rather have a coffee with a friend instead of hitting up the dancefloor, it doesn’t make me a hermit. I’m still discovering who I am, and what I like to do. That’s one of the things that makes life interesting- learning more about myself with every triumph, but also through challenges. Sometimes I’ll make the right decision, and sometimes I’ll make the “wrong” one, but who’s to say what’s really right or wrong?

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