Sometimes I struggle in the company of others.

It usually doesn’t show as I have developed a great skill at appearing socially reasonable. Know when to smile; be effusive; be interested.

I have been told I share too much.

I am who I am.

I would rather be honest with who I am than maintain a charade and dance this odd dance we are all perpetually doing where we pretend to be neutral or unbiased in the public space and hide our real selves for behind our house walls.

Still I do hide really. In public I am not always who I appear to be…I am less introverted in public because I need to be.

I have come to believe I am a natural extrovert who, through childhood experience was made an introvert…over time that extrovert had emerged a bit at a time.

At this stage I like large groups of people more than small groups and way more than one-on-one. You can get lost in the large group. You can find anonymity there.

I like to be around people…I don’t necessarily want to talk to them.

I have few friends and they are good ones. I’m not good at lots of friends although I envy people who are.

Even as a parent, a brother, a son and a partner I struggle with closeness…it’s all there inside, a great and deep abiding love, but it comes out cold, aloof and distant…as if it had to travel a great distance to reach its destination and has emerged weary and ragged from the journey.

I feel I can be a walking contradiction – I have a thin skin covered in the illusion of armour; I crave approval and so run from it; I can be filled with anger and black hate and so seek peace with all my strength; I am terrified all of the time and so I become fearless.

I do not understand myself…if I could play any role in a Shakespearean drama I would want the fool but in so wanting it I would end up with Lear or Macbeth.

Sometimes I miss me. I miss the me that was before the world leaked in like so much radiation mutating me into something other than what I might have been.

Yet for all that mopiness I am happy…another contradiction.

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