Antisocial

I admit it, I'm avoidant, antisocial, agoraphobic. I am irritated and annoyed by people. Not necessarily people in general, just fake, shiny, happy people who act like life is great. Maybe it is great for them, who knows. If I had no kids, I'd live my life as a hermit, a recluse, like Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, Greta Garbo. Women who humanity didn't appreciate until their demise. I'd live in solitude and write and read. Hell, if I was Catholic, I'd become a nun. I feel like people expect too much from me when I already expect an enormous amount from myself.

If it were up to me, I'd never go out and live my life completely at home. Going out means dressing up, being uncomfortable, putting on a fake smile, and pretending I'm normal and pretending I understand where other people are coming from and them pretending to understand where I'm coming from. It's a recipe for disaster.

When all is said and done, at least I can say that the only thing that makes me feel human are the hugs my children give me.