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wispfox[x-posted to personal LJ and emotive_health]
The result of having had a roommate for a month, and then not having one again is interesting.
I find, this evening, after spending most of it reading Stranger In A Strange Land for the first time since early adolescence, that I am currently much more aware of the differences in who I am alone, with other people, and with other people with whom I am absolutely comfortable.
First, with other people. When there are people around me, there is always a part of me which is aware of that fact, and expecting one or more of those people to try to interact with me. This part of me also seems to have a certain amount of expecting that those who will try to interact with me will have some sort of expectation of me when their interaction happens.
Thus, being around people can often be tiring. Especially if they are not people I know very well, so do not have any idea where their expectations may be.
However, if I am around people with whom I have reason to believe have no expectations of me, the piece of myself which is always expecting expectations starts to shut up and relax. And stop waiting for another's need to be expressed.
If around people that I *know* have no expectations of me, I have the benefits of company and cuddling and the ability to express whatever random thought I may have come into my head, and the benefit of not always *waiting*. Not always expecting something.
Problem with the above is that, even if I have actually discussed and therefore not only suspect but *know* that there is a lack of expectation, and that pleasure is experienced simply due to the presences of each other, the piece of me that waits and expects gets scared. It's afraid that the reason that I'm not picking up on any needs or expectations of me is because I'm not paying attention, and not because they are not there. It fears that I have forgotten that not everyone can be happy simply being around other people, and forgotten that other people are not as myself.
So I get paranoid. Perhaps not while I'm *with* the other people whose expectations I know to not exist, perhaps later. When I'm alone and my mind is wandering. It's remarkable the fear I have of not living up to expectations. Even if I may not know what the expectations are, or that they exist. Heck, even if I have reason to believe that they *don't*, the piece of me that is always listening for them will get scared. And start looking for things...
Which brings me to alone. When I am alone, I am free of the expectation demon that lives inside my head. My cat is an exception for the aloneness rule, since any expectations he has, I know I can handle and deal with. So, when I am alone, I am the most clear thinking, and least self-concious, than at any other time.
This, I suspect, is why I so much prefer having no roommate, much as I may appreciate the existence of those I may have had as roommates. I suspect it is why I can crave the company of others at the exact same time as needing time alone. And it is absolutely why I utterly adore those people for whom there simply appear to be no expectations of me. I need that. Not so much because I have had huge expectations put on my shoulders (although I must have had, to have such a strong sense of them - although if it was by others or by myself, I do not know), but because I *expect* people to expect other things of me. I have major difficulty with believing that other people can simply want me around as strongly as I may want them around and *for no other reason*.
This is true to the point that sometimes I will drive myself crazy trying to find a reason. Especially if they are someone that I've ever tried to have a Relationship with. Because my belief that others will have expectations increases dramatically if there is a Relationship involved. Regardless of the accuracy of that belief, it tends to be there (and, especially when I first started dating, has tended to be true...).
The problem with me expecting to be wanted *for* something is that it's hard to accept simply being wanted. And the problem with being myself the most when I'm alone is that I *need* people. I'm such a cuddle-slut it's not even remotely funny. I need touch, I need people. But I can need people and need alone-ness at the exact same time. Very effective way of making myself need to ground myself, that can be.
Fun, being so strongly aware of what others need, and yet being so very aware that my own needs *must* be dealt with first. I am of no use to anyone, including myself, if I do not keep an eye on my *own* needs.
Thankfully, that does seem to be one thing I managed to develop. Of course, if I *listen* to it or not is an entirely different issue.
The result of having had a roommate for a month, and then not having one again is interesting.
I find, this evening, after spending most of it reading Stranger In A Strange Land for the first time since early adolescence, that I am currently much more aware of the differences in who I am alone, with other people, and with other people with whom I am absolutely comfortable.
First, with other people. When there are people around me, there is always a part of me which is aware of that fact, and expecting one or more of those people to try to interact with me. This part of me also seems to have a certain amount of expecting that those who will try to interact with me will have some sort of expectation of me when their interaction happens.
Thus, being around people can often be tiring. Especially if they are not people I know very well, so do not have any idea where their expectations may be.
However, if I am around people with whom I have reason to believe have no expectations of me, the piece of myself which is always expecting expectations starts to shut up and relax. And stop waiting for another's need to be expressed.
If around people that I *know* have no expectations of me, I have the benefits of company and cuddling and the ability to express whatever random thought I may have come into my head, and the benefit of not always *waiting*. Not always expecting something.
Problem with the above is that, even if I have actually discussed and therefore not only suspect but *know* that there is a lack of expectation, and that pleasure is experienced simply due to the presences of each other, the piece of me that waits and expects gets scared. It's afraid that the reason that I'm not picking up on any needs or expectations of me is because I'm not paying attention, and not because they are not there. It fears that I have forgotten that not everyone can be happy simply being around other people, and forgotten that other people are not as myself.
So I get paranoid. Perhaps not while I'm *with* the other people whose expectations I know to not exist, perhaps later. When I'm alone and my mind is wandering. It's remarkable the fear I have of not living up to expectations. Even if I may not know what the expectations are, or that they exist. Heck, even if I have reason to believe that they *don't*, the piece of me that is always listening for them will get scared. And start looking for things...
Which brings me to alone. When I am alone, I am free of the expectation demon that lives inside my head. My cat is an exception for the aloneness rule, since any expectations he has, I know I can handle and deal with. So, when I am alone, I am the most clear thinking, and least self-concious, than at any other time.
This, I suspect, is why I so much prefer having no roommate, much as I may appreciate the existence of those I may have had as roommates. I suspect it is why I can crave the company of others at the exact same time as needing time alone. And it is absolutely why I utterly adore those people for whom there simply appear to be no expectations of me. I need that. Not so much because I have had huge expectations put on my shoulders (although I must have had, to have such a strong sense of them - although if it was by others or by myself, I do not know), but because I *expect* people to expect other things of me. I have major difficulty with believing that other people can simply want me around as strongly as I may want them around and *for no other reason*.
This is true to the point that sometimes I will drive myself crazy trying to find a reason. Especially if they are someone that I've ever tried to have a Relationship with. Because my belief that others will have expectations increases dramatically if there is a Relationship involved. Regardless of the accuracy of that belief, it tends to be there (and, especially when I first started dating, has tended to be true...).
The problem with me expecting to be wanted *for* something is that it's hard to accept simply being wanted. And the problem with being myself the most when I'm alone is that I *need* people. I'm such a cuddle-slut it's not even remotely funny. I need touch, I need people. But I can need people and need alone-ness at the exact same time. Very effective way of making myself need to ground myself, that can be.
Fun, being so strongly aware of what others need, and yet being so very aware that my own needs *must* be dealt with first. I am of no use to anyone, including myself, if I do not keep an eye on my *own* needs.
Thankfully, that does seem to be one thing I managed to develop. Of course, if I *listen* to it or not is an entirely different issue.
