Me Time

Anyone who knows me knows I’m not really a people person.  Sure, I can interact with people in a fairly normal way, but if it’s with those I’m not familiar with (or comfortable with) it’s usually forced, slightly unnatural, and frequently uncomfortable.  Those of you I do feel more comfortable with get a more real me, but still a watered-down, more socially acceptable me.  And those of you I feel very comfortable with get the real, unfiltered and often extremely brash (as I was recently described) and annoying me.  Which leads to me why I’m writing this: I really enjoy “me time.”

By “me time” I mean time alone, even if not really alone, to do whatever the hell I want, preferably whenever the hell I want to.  I find that, even if I’m surrounded by people (especially people I don’t know), I can pretty easily tune them out and, if possible, will try to physically get away from them as soon as possible, so it becomes impossible for me to interact with them.  Because, when it comes down to it, sometimes it’s easier to get to happy when it’s just me, myself, and I.

When I’m with people I don’t know, I am very aware of how fake I feel, as if putting on an act to get through the usually forced (internally or externally) socialization, and for people I really couldn’t care less about, which seems like a lot of misplaced energy and effort on my part.  When I’m with others I’m more comfortable with, while more like myself, I’m still holding back and feel stifled, which also makes me uneasy and very aware of how I’m acting.  And, even when I’m with the few people this world I can really let loose and be myself around, I easily start to get on my own nerves, because I’m, again, very aware of how I’m acting, and not only aware of how others may be perceiving me, but how I’m actually seeing myself from their standpoint, and I don’t much like it.  So, it seems that no matter who I’m with, there’s a point at which I don’t care for how I’m acting, or feeling about how I’m acting, and it’s been like this too much of the time...which is why I prefer to just be on my own from time to time.

Yet, lately (actually, for quite some time now), “me time” has been an exceedingly difficult thing to come by, and I feel like it’s beginning to wear me down and get the better of me.  I like my friends (what few friends I keep), but all too often I don’t like how I am around them.  I love my family and, sometimes, there aren’t many things I enjoy more than spending time with them, but it comes back to me not liking how I am around them.  And there’s no one I love more than my wife and nothing I wouldn’t do for her, but I’ve noticed my fuse has been getting shorter and shorter when dealing with her and I occasionally find myself not wanting to do things for her as they seem to take away from the phony “me time” I’m trying to pull out of thin air wherever and whenever I can.  But I can’t ignore my wife, nor do I want to—this goes for my friends and family as well.

My patience for most everything is worn thin and I don’t like how I’m reacting to the world around me.  I don’t know if this can be fixed with the “me time” I’m missing or if this is a symptom of something else entirely.  Despite how it may look, I hate annoying people, let alone hurting those I care about, but sometimes I feel so damn fed up with everyone and everything that my frustration seems to erupt without me being able to contain it.  I really miss my me time, and am reminded of how much I truly do miss it on those rare occasions I get to enjoy it.  For everyone's sake, especially my ever-patient wife who has to deal with my crap the most, I hope that I can get more of it and pray it helps ease my aggravation.

I realise how completely selfish this all sounds, but for someone who’s never been keen on socializing to begin with and who has always had and relished time to myself, it’s been a very difficult and “painful” transition.  I’m not even sure how much sense I’ve made throughout this diatribe, but writing it out at 1:00 am, alone, with the wife asleep, has helped vent some of that unwanted anger.  Then again, it’s 1:00 am, and I’m tired, and I need to get up for work in the morning...not ideal “me time” here.

I’m not looking for pity or sympathy.  If anything, this is my crappy way of explaining to the people in my life why I’m as ornery as I am and that I’m sorry for it (especially my poor wife).  And who knows, maybe I’ve always been this hard to deal with regardless of how much “me time” I’ve had at my disposal; maybe I’m just a grumpy son-of-a-bitch (not a reference to my mother) who’s never completely happy with the way things are—I, for one, hope not.

(I can hear the faint sound of my wife calling me “Emo” already.)