Over dosing

Apparently I’m self absorbed. So Yer Man told me the other day in a text.  It could be argued that he should know, but if that’s the case, it would be a rare perceptive insight from a man who failed to know so many other things about me, like recognising when I’m down; knowing when I need to be held; or remembering when my birthday is.  Still, miracles happen, and maybe he’s improving with age.

I probably am self absorbed at times. I suspect that’s true of anyone who writes a blog.  Or has a twitter account.  Or a Facebook page. Or engages in any mechanism which is ultimately about sharing their life and thoughts and experiences with a largely unknown readership.  It has been suggested to me that I should keep a diary or journal rather than sharing my darkest thoughts online; by all means continue the writing, but don’t make it public, keep it to yourself.  I can understand the rationale for that approach. But an experience from a number of years ago springs to mind.

I was working directly with teenagers, and we ran a drama programme one summer.  The wonderful Darren Chan worked with the young people over eight weeks, during which time they told their stories, talked about what’s important to them, and described aspects of their lives which I’m sure we would never have understood through any other medium.  As the project came close to the end, it became apparent that we had to put on a public performance, that these stories had to be shared.  The process would have been incomplete, unfinished, without it.  We held two performances to a  packed hall, and it was one of the most amazing times of my career.  My writing feels a bit like that, in terms of needing to be aired, to be set free.   I can’t just close the journal covers or shut down the lap top. My reflections need to sent out there, set off, I need to let them go. Of course it is lovely to get feedback from people, to have others empathise with my feelings; share my emotions; recognise something of themselves in what I write. But to be honest, I’d do it even without any of that feedback;  I don’t do it for the affirmation, but certainly welcome it when it comes.

So, maybe I am self absorbed on those occasions when I’m not on the side of a pitch shouting encouragement at my kids; when I’m not at meetings where I work hard to get the job done whilst trying to keep people on board, even though sometimes that means agreeing to things that don’t sit well with me; when I’m not running between work and home shopping and kids; walking the dog and getting the clothes washed.  Is it possible to be self absorbed in the middle of all of that?  I don’t have the energy for it, and my brain is usually too full of the lists of jobs to be done to give myself much attention, so maybe I overdose on it when I make the time.  Is that part of the fall out of the phenomenon of women having and doing it all? That so much of our time is spent juggling and managing competing demands that we over compensate for the lack of self care when  we can?  The girlie spa breaks?  The nights with women friends where there are no boundaries and no subject is off limits? Tthe therapist, acupuncturist, herbalist on speed dial? Well, if that’s self absorption, bring it on. For me, those are my coping mechanisms; they are what keeps everything hanging together; what enables me to stay relatively sane, most of the time, even when there are days when I want to hide away and never again have human contact.  If self absorption is my survival technique, I can live with that. Even if he couldn’t.