Socialising is making me sick

The Connection Diaries #1: Social & Emotional Burnout

Dear reader,

Last week I wrote a poem:

Socialising is a side dish.

And everyone around me is gobbling it up like a main meal.

I’ve had enough after a few bites.

It’s rich.

My head hurts.

Is it home time yet?

This week it dawned on me that it’s much deeper than that. I thought I was sick of socialising but actually, socialising is making me sick.

I’ve forced myself to do way more than I enjoy or am capable of, I’ve crammed myself into contexts that make me feel emotionally unsafe, stressed and frustrated, and now that I’m finally listening to myself I can hear my body saying ‘no more’.

Between the ages of 18-28, I consistently and unwittingly trampled on my needs, largely because I didn’t even know I had needs. I simply used my peers as templates for ‘normal’ and followed suit.

In the poem, home time is literal. But this week I’ve come to understand home more as a way of being - a place inside of me. The difference between me at 28 and me now is that I’m not far from home, I’m actually very close, it’s just that being away for a decade has taken it’s toll. After so many years at sea, I’ve returned to safety completely exhausted.

So what does connection look like when socialising is making you sick? This week it meant:

٭ Spending proper time alone while A is away in Rotterdam

٭ Doing as little as physically possible, crying, and getting plenty of sleep

٭ Accepting that I am socially & emotionally burnt out and that I need to take it very seriously

٭ Realising that I need to spend considerable time away from the stressor while I recover and redefine what ‘normal’ means to me

٭ Phoning someone who has experienced something similar. I rarely make phone calls and this one was spur of the moment, but it was cathartic to be witnessed and cared for while expressing the strange mix of grief and relief I’m feeling right now.

٭ Lighting candles and eating breakfast while watching Gogglebox (my ultimate fave).

٭ Spotting the first daffodils of spring in my local park and immediately coming across a bunch in Tesco for 28p

٭ Staring up at the sky, watching the clouds and knowing that I’m part of something larger

Speak soon,

S x