Engaging people used to take a lot out of me. When the chemistry was off it may have been less of an issue I guess but when it was on my mind has just flown off the handle. Vibing with someone has typically left me thoroughly depleted. And there is still definitely something neurotic about the way I engage others. If I happen to be graced by unadulterated attention (especially when it is given by someone I fancy) it tends to trigger an outright inflammation of my mind: I lose my poise and end up jittery with excitement, shaking—if it’s a colder season literally shaking—with cortisol and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I turn into a subdued kind of a maniac. Clearly, I seem to have a hard time handling the attention I get: in response to it all my repressed elation erupt and drive me quite beside myself. Like a junkie finally getting his fix I get so intoxicated by the energy (that gets liberated when I allow myself to finally let go) that it becomes almost toxic to me. To recover I have to pro-actively do grounding practices like walking, shaking my limbs out, massaging my feet, singing and humming to myself, breathing in a protracted and gaggy manner, ’’speaking the language of the stars’’, write passages (like this one), seek solitude and just let the madness ripple through. I got to relax and trace the ways my body moves and expresses itself on its own accord as minimally intercepted by the head as possible. As you can imagine, on school trips I was the kind of boy who would stay up all night if anyone else was willing to do that with me. I had no limits if it came to the ecstasy of shared time. My poor ex, she had no idea what she was in for 😉
Was I neglected too much as a child? Did my mother’s strategy to let me cry it out alone at night backfire a little bit? Who knows. And it doesn’t matter either. What matters it that I take notice now.
But let me redeem and package this personal stuff in some informative ’take-away’ way: What’s good for you becomes less of a good thing when you learn that you have to kind of deny it to yourself (in order to preempt it being denied to you). Actually, it’s not that hard to see the parallels to the twisted psychology of restrictive dieting and cravings. A recurring sense of uncertainty about availability (of food or attention) trains a nervous system to adopt a neurotic (and compulsive) scarcity mindset […which, I think, is something quite natural, though, each one of us experiences some form of deprivation from the get-go; the difference lies more in how it gets to unravel I guess…]