Catherine, and Some Personal History

I’ve been thinking for the past week about what different people get from reading my tumblr. Random internet strangers probably just read the posts about things they’re interested in. People who know me well will get to know me better. But for people who don’t know me yet, it’s not a perfect window into my life - there are a lot of things that don’t come across all that well in text. I post about the things that interest me, and I post a lot of information about my life, but not so much about more abstract things - what I believe in, what kind of person I am, and so on. There’s not much point in simply telling you those things. because there would be nothing to back it up, and even if you accept that I’m nice because I said so, it wouldn’t really leave much of an impression on you. Trying to show you things like that with words is tough, but I’ll think about it and work on a few drafts to give the internet at large a better idea of who I am.

        I started playing Catherine last night, and aside from being a pretty satisfying puzzle game (as long as you don’t get really stuck on a hard part), it’s an absolutely wonderful thing to experience. I’d be surprised if I got more than ten hours out of it, but the value of playing it can’t be measured in time spent playing. The basic gist is that you guide Vincent, a 32 year old underachiever, through the worst week of his life. First, his girlfriend of five years, Katherine, starts talking about marriage. Then he drinks a bit too much and has a one-night stand with a girl named Catherine. What happens from there depends on the player’s decisions, but it’s a really well-crafted experience.

        If you absolutely love puzzle games, there’s probably $60 worth of gameplay in there, but everyone else should play the game on easy and act as honestly as possible. It’ll get you thinking about what you would do in a given situation, and about relationships in general. Which is absolutely fantastic, and I’m so glad that this is a “mainstream” video game. I mean, ok, it’s not a AAA blockbuster release, but it’s not some budgetless, vague indie game either. It’s a game that deals with marriage, cheating, responsibility, the nature of relationships… It’s a work of art in every definition of the word.

        So I’ve been thinking a lot since I started playing it, and naturally one of the things I’ve been thinking about is infidelity. Apparently, I’ve actually never written about this before, which is surprising because of what happened between Brittany and I. It’s kind of an important detail, which makes it strange that I’ve never mentioned it. It also means I have to write about it now, in order to get into the stuff I want to say. Alright, so, here’s the quick and dirty version. When we were in 9th grade, Brittany got involved with a guy a year younger than her, and she was really serious about him. It ended badly, she did her best to get over it, and then in November of 10th grade we started dating again. In PEI, high school doesn’t start until 10th grade, so when we moved onto high school she didn’t really see the guy until the fall of 11th grade.  Before too long, despite having a girlfriend, he started flirting with her. She was wary of him because he proved to be a supreme asshole the first time, but I knew she was drawn to him in a way she’d never been drawn to me, and so I gave her permission to talk to him and braced for impact. Fast forward a few months, and by November things are very serious between them and we finally break up ten days before our anniversary.

        I don’t think I need to get into what happened between them after that, but suffice to say that he was actually worse than a supreme asshole. An uber asshole, if you will, the horrible embodiment of all the terrible things women expect from men. Meanwhile, I had encouraged my girlfriend - who I loved dearly, and who was at the time my one source of happiness - to leave me. In the end, her relationship with him made her reevaluate her feelings for me, and there ended the possibility of us getting back together. Understandably, our relationship became strained as things went on, and we spoke less and less often. Eventually it seemed like we couldn’t even manage to carry on a conversation. Considering she was my only close friend, the only person I thought I could share my secrets, doubts, and fears with, this was hard for me. I was incredibly lonely, and of course I spoke occasionally with my friends and family about this stuff, but it was this loneliness that led me to meet Vael and open up to him.

        What I realized, over time, was that I missed Brittany as my best friend far more than I missed her as my girlfriend. We went from speaking all day, every day to never speaking at all, and that alone was hard. Not having anyone to talk to about personal stuff was worse. I don’t remember the exact details of what happened, but at some point I must have told her this and asked if we could “just be friends.” Yeah, I said that, and I said it after we’d broken up. Delicious irony, if you can ignore my crying, desperately lonely 16-year-old-self long enough to laugh about it. Of course there were issues to work through, and of course I struggled with my feelings for her. After all that time, I couldn’t just snap my fingers and only think of her as a friend. But in the end, it all worked out, and now we’re friends and she’s living in my mom’s house. It’s been almost a week now, and it hasn’t been at all awkward for me (although I’ve been at my dad’s house this whole time). She doesn’t find it weird being there, and I assume being around me is no different than it was a month ago. Which is to say I haven’t asked about that, but maybe I should.

        SO OK NOW WE’RE BACK TO CATHERINE AND THE THINGS IT MADE ME THINK ABOUT. Now I can tell you how I see love, why I say that Brittany “cheated” on me with an emphasis on the quotation marks, and why I have no problem with it. Except that when I say now, I actually mean tomorrow, because this is really long. And the chances of people reading it all probably increase when it’s split up. So, that post will go up tomorrow morning, and I hope you all enjoy it!

Improve the world, and be happy!

[Alternatively titled: How I Learned to Stop Being Suicidal and Love Life]

A few weeks ago, a friend of mine told me they were feeling suicidal. Don’t worry - things have turned around completely, and this friend is feeling happy for the first time in a long while. Still, it made me think about the way I used to feel when I was suicidal - how I felt when I was 10, and the slightly more refined thoughts I had during junior high and high school. It made me realize how much I’ve grown up, and I thought it was worth sharing. I’ll try to be concise! Sometimes you have to explore a few tangents, but I’ll try to keep them relevant.

        I gave a quick history in my Depression post last year, and I touched on my suicidal thoughts as well. One thing I forgot to mention was the feeling that I had nothing to live for. When I was 10, I thought that I was so smart and wanted to do great things - but I knew that the world doesn’t work that way and figured I’d wind up in a crappy office job, living a “normal” life. I was just a kid, you know? The life of an adult, in my mind, consisted solely of their job. It never occurred to me that I could have a normal job, and still do great things.

        I wanted to improve the world, though, and since I wouldn’t do it at work, I thought it was impossible. Then I thought I could do it by taking myself out of the picture. When I realized that would only make things worse, I looked for other ways to make the world a better place. I figured that if I could improve at least one thing, no matter how small, I would have lived a worthwhile life. When I met Brittany in junior high, I decided my one thing would be to help her. I figured I could help her with her problems, and then she’d go off and be happy and it would all be thanks to me. I didn’t think that would take too long, and after that, even if I killed myself, I would have made the world a better place. It never quite worked out that way, but I held onto the idea that I could make people’s lives better in some small way and live a good life.

        I knew that I couldn’t kill myself if anyone would be left behind to mourn me and blame themselves for my death, so I decided I would have to disappear quietly. The day no one would notice I was dead, I could slip away and that would be that. I figured that I could leave home after high school and gradually lose contact with my family, and then I’d just have to make sure they couldn’t trace my identity after I died. I felt that it was inevitable that everyone in my life would leave me, so when that happened, I’d be free to end it. “Unfortunately” for my tenth grade self, I’ve made new connections and gotten closer to everyone else, more or less foiling this plot.

        You know how sometimes you can’t figure out whether something actually happened, or you just had a dream and thought it happened? I get that sometimes, except I can’t remember whether I said something or just thought about saying it. Either way, in high school I once said (or thought I said) that I “wanted to be happy when I grew up.” Which is super dramatic, and sad, and that’s what really made me want to say it. I was also trying to say that it didn’t matter what I “was when I grow up,” in terms of what career I chose - as long as I had enough to survive and something else to make me happy, I’d be ok.

        What I realized, thinking about all of this, is that I’ve done it. I grew up. I’m happy with my life, and I’ll still be happy no matter where things go from here. That’s not to say that everything is perfect; I just know that I can deal with and overcome pretty much anything. I’m happy with who I am, and I think I’m a good person. I doubt I’m radically changing the lives of everyone I meet, but I’ve made good friends and I’m helping out whenever I can. Enough to say I’m a net positive influence on the world, at least, which was always the plan. And that’s enough to make me happy!

Old friend, new roommate

Should I apologize for not posting while I’m on vacation? I feel guilty about it anyway, but I’m thinking most people focus on their vacation and don’t post at all. Well, I love you too much to stay away for long. Also, I can’t help but think up tumblr posts when I should be sleeping, and the best cure for that is to actually write one before bed.

        If that’s not a significant caveat, I don’t know what is.

        Anyway, I have news! News big enough for its own post, even. It’s a big change, technically, but at the same time I’m hoping for a minimal amount of changes to accommodate it. If that makes sense. Ideally, I’ll be able to continue working at the same pace I have been and life will go on as usual, except with an extra person living in my house.

        I’ll skip the long story of how we got to this point and summarize: Brittany is moving in at my mom’s place, and she’ll stay there while I’m at my dad’s. I’m giving up my bedroom, but I prefer to sleep on the futon in the basement anyway, so all that’s left is to figure out where I’ll move my “office.” No big deal, although everybody’s worried about us living together, but it’s not as bad as it sounds.

        If you’ve been reading my tumblr long enough, you probably know Brittany as my ex-girlfriend. But we broke up two and a half years ago now, and I don’t think our status as an ex-couple (do people say that? makes sense to me) defines our relationship anymore. I mean, yeah, we dated and we broke up - but there’s no tension, no unresolved issues, none of the things you would expect when you’re meeting someone’s ex for the first time. And the more time I spend with her now, the more comfortable I am with the way things are - we’re friends, the same way I’m friends with Vael, Sebastian, or Max.

        I’ve been offering to let Brittany stay with us pretty much since we decided to move to Ottawa, mainly because I’ve always thought her family treats her terribly. Her mom has been threatening to kick her out recently, or at least make her pay rent, which is difficult considering how few jobs are available in Summerside. Ottawa, on the other hand, has many more opportunities. So I asked my mom if she could stay with us, because it would be cheaper for her than getting an apartment in Summerside, and she’d have better odds of saving up money for school. Fast-forward to our vacation, and Brittany came out to dinner with us. One of the first things my mom says is “so Brittany, are you coming back to Ottawa with us?” At first she said maybe, and then there was much discussion and working out of details, and now the answer is yes.

        I figure I’ll be introducing her as my friend from now on, and that’ll avoid plenty of awkward situations where people misunderstand or assume things. Not like it’ll be a secret that we dated, but if it comes up, I’ll just say she turned me into a newt and then I got better. Or something along those lines. I just want to say that I got better and make it clear that it’s a Monty Python reference.

        Anyway, that’s that. There’s not really a whole lot to say aside from re-assuring everyone about the way things are between us now, so there you go. Consider yourself assured!

        tl;dr: my ex-girlfriend is going to be my roommate, but it’s not what you think

Username Origin stories

Lots of stuff going on ‘round here, but I’m feeling pretty tired and thought of something somewhat interesting to post. The origins of my tumblr’s name and url! Or my account name, or whatever you call the x in x.tumblr.com. And on a related note, the origin of the “Demi” name you’ll see people refer to every once in a while.

        “The lows are low, but the highs are home” is a quote from the song Chasing Hamburg by Polar Bear Club, the title track from their 2009 album. Apparently the song is about one specific gig they played in Hamburg, the idea being that it was an awesome show and they’re “chasing” that kind of fantastic feeling. What I took from that specific line was sometimes life is shitty, but that’s not the point - you’re living for the high points, which more than make up for the lows. It’s not just optimism for the future, it’s having the resilience to deal with the crappy stuff on the way.

        “lamattgrind” is an anagram of my first and last names, in the sense of “this is about the daily grind of my life.” University is a bit less monotonous than high school was at times, but it’s still pretty grind-y. Go to class, study before going to the next class, repeat once or twice before going home. Then prepare for tomorrow’s classes. It’s not so bad, but there’s a definite predictability to it. Which sounds pretty depressing, but it’s not actually that bad.

        As for the Demi thing, that’s a bit of a longer story, but I’ll try to skip the boring parts. A few years ago, I stumbled upon a browser based game called MonBre. You needed to pick a first and last name for your player character, so I went with “Rakki Lesthys” - the names of two characters I’d used in a story a long time ago, and continued to use in party based RPGs. Eventually I decided to change to a more masculine name, and at work grabbed inspiration from a box of pastries. “Demi Lune” seemed like a great name at the time, despite being more feminine in retrospect and thus defeating the purpose of the change. As I became close friends with the creator of MonBre, a certain Vael Victus, he decided I qualified for adoption into the Victus family and the name changed to Demi Victus.

        Did you want to know any of these things? Probably not, but now you do! I’d planned to do a similar post on the origins of all my various interests and hobbies, which would either be far more interesting or far more boring. If I get the itch to finish that, you’ll see it when it’s done.

You have [3] games remaining

There’s something I’ve been working on for a few years now, but I’ve never actually mentioned to anyone. A personal quest of mine, I guess. It’s not really a secret, I’ve just never bothered to explain it. I told someone yesterday, though, and I think he was impressed, so I feel like posting about it now.

        My goal is this: play every game in the main Final Fantasy series to completion. A dozen games right now, thirteen if you include FF X-2. I’ve finished some of the earlier NES titles in 20-30 hours, but the newer games are easily twice as long. More if you run around doing sidequests and finding secrets, which I tend to do. I’ll post my final times when I’m all done, but let’s just say I’ve put hundreds of hours into this series.

        At the moment, I have three games left to finish: Final Fantasy V, Final Fantasy VI, and Final Fantasy VIII. I’ve put a few hours into FF V already, but I haven’t started the other two at all. At a wild guess, I’d say 40 hours each for FF V and VI, but VIII could take a while longer than that depending on how much extra stuff I do. It’s looking good, though - I think I can finish before the end of the year, even if I get a job for the summer.

        I don’t know for sure when I started doing this. I think it was a little over a year ago that I told myself I’d actually finish them all, but it was a few years before that when I decided to collect all of the games. I still remember when I got each of the games, but the thing is - I rarely ever finished them. I actually did complete II, VII and IX before dedicating myself to it. But since last spring, I’ve finished FF I, III, IV, X, X-2, XII, and XIII. Most of those games only took 10-20 more hours to finish from when I’d stopped playing, which may sound ridiculous if you don’t play RPGs, but it means I was pretty close to the end.

Here are a few things I’ve learned so far:

• Basic plots can work, over and over again, as long as they’re well executed - you can make a dozen “go save the world” games, but if you make the player an integral part of the story and give them compelling short-term goals, they really won’t care (good examples: FF VII, FF X - bad examples: FF XII, FF XIII)
• When the player takes control of existing characters, choose your “protagonist” carefully - the player shouldn’t feel like someone else is doing all the important work, but making the protagonist a supporting character can make things really interesting (Yuna is the most important character in FF X, and it’s her job to save the world, yet Tidus is the protagonist and manages to be integral to the story anyway - Vaan is the protagonist in FF XII, but Ashe is the only character that really matters to the story, and you’re left feeling totally unimportant)
• Repetitive gameplay can be rescued by altering the feedback by a tiny bit - if the player has to fight 50 battles in order to get a single level up, they’ll feel like they’re making no progress, but if you give them stat boosts every 10 battles it’ll seem like they’re constantly getting stronger (FF II is great with this, while ability points in FF V and IX fill a similar role of constant feedback)
• It takes a lot of work to make a great character, but it pays off in the end, so don’t skimp on the supporting characters - every character needs their own personality (this means you need to write well enough to show it off), a unique look to complement that, and an interesting role in the gameplay (every game from FF IV to X has a… mostly great cast, but X-2, XII, and XIII have boring, underdeveloped, and relatively uninteresting characters - they’re very pretty, though!)

        There’s probably a lot more to be said than that, but I haven’t thought of it yet. You really need to compare individual games in order to notice this stuff, because the strong points of one game can shed light on the problems of another. So even though I’m almost done playing the games, I’m nowhere near finished thinking about them. I could easily write this much about Dissidia Final Fantasy, the fighting game that pits characters from across the series against each other. I intend to write a whole lot more about the stories and characters of FF XII and XIII.

        I mean, someone’s gotta do it.

Morality of used games

A couple of weeks ago, I set off from my house with a backpack full of games I knew I’d never play again. My brother had agreed with all of my choices, and we’d had them sitting in a box, waiting to be disposed of in any way possible, for a long time. This was stuff like Ape Escape Pumped & Primed, Pokemon Battle Revolution, games we either picked up in a bargain bin or as a well-intentioned gift. Maybe a few that seemed like a good idea at the time (Star Wars Force Unleashed, Ridge Racer 7). We’d tried selling them to our friends, through a yard sale, and we just couldn’t find anybody willing to give us any decent price for them.

        So I took them to the one place I knew would be forced to take even the worst game off of my hands: GameStop. I looked at the pile of games, and I said to my brother: “I almost feel bad for making them take these games. I’d refuse, if I were them.” I apologized when I went in, and the guy (the manager, I think) laughed. I unpacked all the games, he rang them in, and the total came up to around $90. If you buy a used game when you trade something in, they give you an extra 50% credit. New total: $134. The catch: I had to use all the credit right away.

        So I bought Assassin’s Creed: Brotherhood used, which was 100% worth it. Then I bought Final Fantasy Tactics A2, also used. With $70 left, I couldn’t think of anything to get, and ended up getting Dead Space and Dead Space 2 - both used. I didn’t really want Dead Space 2, given that I haven’t played the first, so I asked my brother and we agreed to return it in exchange for a Portal 2 pre-order.

        This was definitely a great deal for me - I got rid of a box full of junk, and scored four games in exchange. But does that make it right? I got, literally, dollars and cents for most of the games. I got Arc the Lad: End of Darkness for $10 in a bargain bin, and they gave me $0.37 for it. That Ape Escape game got me $0.45. Pokemon Battle Revolution was worth about twenty bucks, and Yoshi’s Island 2 was worth $15. All of the games I sold them will be sold for a much higher price, the profits going solely to GameStop. The three games I bought used didn’t contribute anything to the developers beyond what they got from the first sale. Some people like to make the argument that “used game sales drive new game purchases” - yet GameStop gave me $45 just for buying one single used game from them. I could have just bought a $10 used game from a bargain bin, and gotten that bonus credit. There are no restrictions on it, except with pre-orders I think. You think they’d be doing that if it didn’t make them a profit?

        So, in short, I may be a bad (or at least selfish) person. I made a profit for a large corporation, and I contributed nothing to the people who genuinely deserve the money for the games.

        edit: I traded in exactly 30 games, if I counted the receipt properly - so an average of $3 each

In the meantime, take these pills

You already know that I used to be depressed, right? If that’s a surprise to you, read that first. I haven’t read it since I first wrote it, so I don’t know how I feel about it. I’m sure it’s ok though.

        The reason I say that is because I’ve been kind of doubtful for the past month or so since we got into the psychological disorders section of my psychology class. The “worst case scenario” they describe for depression is being absolutely incapable of functioning normally. Not getting out of bed for weeks, stuff like that. “Heaven forbid, you might even become suicidal” quipped my professor. Given that I always managed to scrape by, I guess that means my depression wasn’t really that bad.

        That is, if you accept the “it could be worse, so it’s not that bad” form of logic. It’s probably better to place depression (I’m sure the analogy would work for other problems, too) on a sort of exponential scale similar to the Richter scale used for earthquakes. A 2.0 earthquake is 10 x 10, while a 4.0 earthquake is 10 x 10 x 10 x 10 - a lot more than twice as bad. Being unable to get out of bed is a totally different level of magnitude than having a life devoid of joy and happiness, but I don’t think that changes things. It’s way worse, but the latter is still bad.

        The other thing I kind of want to rail against is what my professor said about becoming suicidal being the end of the line for depression. That’s really not the case. Again with a math analogy, because they’re super easy, becoming suicidal is probably more like the area of a rectangle. Being depressed for a long time (length) is just as bad as being extremely depressed (width). A rectangle that’s 10 x 4 has as much area as one that’s 4 x 10. Claiming that only people who are as depressed as you can be will become suicidal is just false.

        So, in sum, I’d still say that I was depressed and that it sucked a lot. It feels pretty distant to me, now, so it’s easy to say it wasn’t so bad - but only if I forget what it felt like at the time.

—————————————————-

        Now here’s where this post becomes relevant: my brother is incredibly similar to me. All of the reasons I became depressed, all the despair I had in my little ten year old mind, are just as relevant for him as they were for me. I know this sounds stupid, but it’s hard being a smart kid, especially when being smart doesn’t mean you’ll succeed. He’s as smart as I ever was, probably smarter when it comes to math and science. But he isn’t getting the grades I did, which is just unfair. He wants to be an eccentric math professor, and I can totally see him being that eccentric math professor, but the universities aren’t going to see it that way when they look at his marks.

        Making matters worse is the fact that my parents expect everything out of him that they expected of me, and he’d naturally have as much trouble dealing with that as I did. It’s hard being perfect all the time, you know? But I escaped that by taking those expectations into myself - my parents would probably accept 80’s at university, but I want the 90’s for myself. And I get them, with enough effort. Or with very little effort (usually) in junior high and most of high school.

        Except he isn’t getting those grades all the time. My dad gives him a really, really hard time for that. My mom is better with it, but she still pushes him.

        Plus we moved away from all his friends. He’s got a couple here, but I don’t think there’s anyone he’s really close to. Certainly nothing like what I had at his age, which was an immense help to me.

        In short, my brother is depressed.

        My mom brought it up with our doctor (or some doctor, at any rate) and they said “we’ll get you to a psychologist in a month or so.” Ok, great. Give him someone to talk to and work through his problems. Then they said “in the meantime, have him take these antidepressants.”

        You can probably guess I have a problem with that. You don’t just give people treatment without any sort of diagnosis! If someone walks in and says “I have a heart condition,” you don’t give them pills and send them off for a month. Pills are meant to solve physiological (chemical, biological, etc.) problems, and they do that by making physiological changes. Changes in your physiology, especially in brain chemistry, screw with your body until it can adjust. That’s why medication has side effects. You know why antidepressants sometimes say “may cause suicidal thoughts”? Because they mess with your neurotransmitters (like hormones, but in the brain), and if the problem isn’t related to neurotransmitters, you’ll be creating symptoms that were never there.

        Long story short, on average, people tend to become more suicidal in the first few weeks of taking antidepressants. He’s been on them now for about two weeks, with some pretty bad side effects (incredibly dizzy, slept all day on sunday) but I don’t think he was suicidal to the point of actually hurting himself. What if he had been? What if he never got to see that psychologist in a month, because he didn’t adjust well to the pills and couldn’t take any more?

        Even aside from all of that, there’s the simple fact that psychological disorders are caused by more than just neurotransmitter problems. There are social issues (family life, friends, etc.), cognitive issues (bad thought habits > depression > bad thought habits), pre-existing conditions to consider (personality disorders, general physical problems) and plenty of other things that contribute. Antidepressants aren’t going to help someone with an inferiority complex, or an abusive partner, or a bad habit of blaming themselves and being pessimistic. That is why a psychologist studies for many years to make a diagnosis and (hopefully) take all the possibilities into account before beginning the appropriate treatment. And that’s without even getting into the possibility that there’s a vicious circle going on (negative thoughts > low serotonin levels?), leading to treatment of symptoms instead of the underlying cause.

        Anyway, people are sometimes bad at their jobs and make irresponsible choices.

In which a banquet forced me to confront my introversion

I went to Carleton’s varsity banquet last night, even though I’m not on the actual varsity fencing team. They put my name on the list without even asking any questions, and I actually just walked in and sat down at the table without even showing my ticket (luckily enough, because I didn’t have the ticket). Which is all to say that it wasn’t exactly an exclusive event.

        Anyway! The banquet itself isn’t really important, and there’s nothing really interesting to say about it. What is interesting, though, is what happened afterwards. I was there for about two and a half hours, with maybe a couple hundred people there. We were unlucky enough to get the table closest to the speakers, so the music was so loud you had to lean towards the people beside you to talk to them. When all the awards had been given out, I basically just said goodbye to my friend (and none of the other people I kind of know) and took off as quickly as I could. I’m sure it was rude and etc. but I just wanted out! So I left, and I’m walking around wearing a suit, and I was just so glad to be alone. I missed the bus, met up with a guy I kinda know and hadn’t spoken to all night (he was at a different table), and he knew the way to the light rail train station so we could get back to Carleton and I could take the bus from there.

        After we got off the train and he left, I just started getting incredibly tired, as well as an instant headache. I’ll blame that part on the music. The other thing is I started thinking about stuff I should have done at the banquet (actually socialized with people, for example) and being lightly miserable. Really just wanted to get home and crawl into bed. So I hopped on the bus and did that, and remembered that, oh yeah, I’m really introverted. And that’s what this post is really about!

        I don’t dislike people in general, and I like the people I know. I’m not trying to avoid you! Really! What happens is this: I need to be alone when I work, because it’s really hard to keep up three conversations and write an essay at the same time. When I want to relax, I prefer to be by myself. And then suddenly I’m “too busy” to sign into Miranda and talk to the people I know and love. And I say I’ll be around more often, because being alone all the time is depressing and bad, and then it doesn’t really happen. And that sucks.

        The absolute worst case scenario is when I either spend a lot of time with a few people (having friends over for the entire weekend like I used to in junior high and high school) or any amount of time with a lot of people (parties, banquets). Then I get mentally and emotionally drained, and it puts me off for a long time afterwards. When I went to the Halloween party in October, I was miserable literally all weekend. It isn’t as bad this time, though I don’t know why. I’m feeling mostly better, at any rate. Having a hard time getting settled in to work, though.

        Anyway, I’m pretty sure this is an actual thing that happens to people other than just me. Odds are it’ll seem familiar if you’re introverted, because I’ve realized in retrospect that it has pretty much always happened and I just never realized it until I really thought about it. Maybe you’ll notice it from now on.

        Ok this is getting long and I’m really just procrastinating. Tl;dr I half-ass an apology, rationalize my failure to socialize, half-heartedly justify my continued status as a hermit, and try to remember from now on to accept my introversion. Denial doesn’t really get me anywhere.