Going Sherlock

[tealin]

I like to tell people I live in a shared house, even though at this point in my career I could, theoretically*, afford to live alone, because if I don't have the moderating presence of other people, I "go the full Sherlock."

This week, one housemate is in Italy and another is in Korea – the third is technically around but she effectively lives with her partner and just keeps her room here for, I dunno, storage? appearances? – so I've had the house to myself, and aside from an hour or two of café time, have been more or less on my own with the mountain of things that need doing. Many of which have been done! Gold star.

I've been led to believe that normal people, in this sort of situation, would start going stir-crazy and be desperate to get out for a bit of social fresh air, but I find the opposite tends to happen with me: after four or five days, the walls get taller and I find it harder and harder to think of compelling reasons to go through the front door ... This probably comes down to a childhood spent in isolating circumstances, where I learned quite well how to keep myself company but not how to do anything else; it continued unchallenged through most of adulthood, which is why there are large parts of Vancouver I've never visited and touchstone events both there and in LA which I've never attended. It's not so much agoraphobia as agorapathy – not afraid to go out, just can't be bothered.

Of course, without keeping them in shape this leads to a breakdown of the social skills I've gone to great lengths to acquire, and as I pull deeper and deeper into my own head I am less aware of how I come across outside it, and then ... Sherlock. A very popular character on television but not, I can assure you, well received in real life. Especially when not played by Benedict Cumberbatch.

So here I sit, tonight, a week of solitude behind me, and a week of solitude in another house next week (albeit with coworkers during the day, which helps), knowing that I ought to take advantage of a gorgeous summer Saturday night in Cambridge but not quite knowing how, and pondering some pub drawing in a context I can only describe as medicinal – and I can't decide which pub. They're either too busy or not summery enough, and there's plenty of the year for visiting winter pubs. It's so much easier not to decide and just stay home again – but I cannot let myself do that! I refuse! But what?

If nothing else, this week has taught me an important thing: I am formed by nature to be the crackpot old lady in the woods, but if I follow temptation and wind up in a cabin on the Inside Passage, all the progress I've made is forfeit. I've been thinking a lot about what direction to take if I'm sent back to Canada next year, and that had been an option, but for my sake and everyone else's I think I have to close that door.

*Assuming I were working full-time at my level of experience and seniority, and not swept up in some mania for which I've more or less taken early retirement, without the pension

Comments

[lumiere42]

Possibly go for a walk along the river or summat, if you're not feeling pub-ish? At least then you're *outdoors*, as the first step.

This sounds very familiar ... at least there you're not stuck with AND IT'S TOO DAMN HOT as a major factor as well :)

Sometime, if you like, we should talk about 'your own perception of your social skills' vs. 'other people's actual present-day perceptions of you, as opposed to whatever past recordings of people's judgement keep playing in the back of your subconscious.'

Honestly, *some* periods of artistically productive house-cocooning are good for the brain! As long as you haven't sunk to hissing, garden-rake-waving 'GET OFF MY LAWN' levels, you're probably okay.

...I'll cheerfully distance-nag you to get out more often, if you want.

[lumiere42]

ALSO: since you're around co-workers part of the time now, your brain might be saying, 'Okay, that's enough auditory input to process in the course of a week and I need a bit of a rest.' In which case just going out walking is less sensory-disruptive than a pub.

[tealin]

Aah I went to the pub, and it was good, and as usual I sat at a table in the corner and no one talked to me, aside from the nice lady who cautioned that when I got married and had kids I wouldn't have time to do that anymore (she said it jovially, but wouldn't hear that that course of events was staggeringly unlikely). That's the thing about pubs and cafés – it's not an exercise in socializing, it's more like an immersive ambient TV show. People tend to come in groups and stick to their groups, so if you're a loose end you're not going to get sucked into conversation. But sitting back and observing and very occasionally having some low-key interaction with passers-by keeps your hand in, socially.

Sometime, if you like, we should talk about 'your own perception of your social skills' ...

Haha, yes, well, you know me now, not ten years ago, or, say, the summer of 2004 which I lived more or less as an incarcerated housemaid even though I could have changed that any time, or a couple years later when I'd moved out on my own and regularly ended up in tears of self-hatred for my inability to talk to anyone. The skills you observe are hard-won, and like drawing or musical skills, if you don't keep in practice they go away again. I'm not letting ten years of hard work go without a fight. And that's why I keep needling you to take steps, because I've been there and know it can be done, and is very much worth doing. :)

When I go teach, I usually need a week of solitude to recover, but that's full-on verbal interaction all day for ten days (and two days of hiding in the teachers' accommodation, in the middle). My workplace these days has people around, but they're just ... around ... 98% of the time I'm drawing alone at my desk. What raised a red flag this week wasn't the usual licking-wounds instinct following exposure, but getting comfortable with solitude, and that familiar 'well I could go out but I think I'll stay home instead' feeling that overrode everything else ten years ago. It's frightening to realise what a good prisoner I'd make, and I'm determined not to become one (again) voluntarily.

P.S.

[tealin]

Lived 6 summers in L.A., I am no stranger to 'TOO DAMN HOT' – which has had significant impact on my life choices.



NEVER AGAIN.

[gool_duck]

I like 'It's not so much agoraphobia as agorapathy – not afraid to go out, just can't be bothered.' I get that too.

[enigel]

This is very relevant to my experience and process of figuring out where I stand on the metaphorical Sherlock line.

Is it really progress if one goes against one's nature for the sake of fitting in?

I have some painfully acquired social skills, but they're not always making me happy or even content. Oftentimes they feel like "a little knowledge is a dangerous thing", more so than ignorance.

What other things could one do with one's mental energy if a sizeable part of it was not consumed by trying to decipher social Morse code? (I'm not talking "distinguishing bad from wrong" level, but things like the right amount of eye contact or the correct reaction to someone's proud account of how drunk they got on the weekend.)

In my case, it's not as much going out that's the problem, it's the people that reside there. Or inside, but for various reasons I really can't share with someone else, and have to be able to afford living on my own (oh-oh, oh-oh, living on my own).