I don’t know why I just got a kick to write again.  I didn’t feel like walking and grocery shopping was out of the question ’cause I wasn’t hungry.  I hope this is not just one of those short-term motivation spikes given to me because I upped my dosage of Prozac.  Earlier I was feeling tired so I had a nap.  I’ve been thinking a little about the history (ha ha) of my social life.  I don’t know why right now I’m not more interested in searching out guys now that I’m on eharmony.  Okay, maybe I do if I go back to the past. 

In the past it seems I’ve always been one of those people whose been integrated into a good social life (e.g., gymnastics friends, lake cousins, school friend, work friend) and then it just falls away.  It feels as if all good friendships, all good times are not meant to last.  I know I was young and I understand people separate for reasons that are more personal than not, but combined with my dad’s lack of emotional connection with me and even mom’s it just feels futile.  What I thought about this lack the other day was that it meant I either felt smothered – heck mom lived a little through me with gymnastics and that was a big committment or at least it was made into a big commitment and dad was up my alley since I was a wee thing about school – or neglected.  Dad coming home exhausted from who knows what to watch TV, mom forgetting about our meals when dad’s away, us agreeing we’ll fend for ourselves – everything felt just a little too much put together.  Dad tells me to go on – just live my life.  Don’t concern yourself with Jayda, with him (I’m sure he knew at some level I was talking about him) and I guess my response could have been – yeah dad that’s what I’ve been doing for a good portion of my life. (May 18th Update:  Okay not really).

So this is not just nostalgia for the past.  It’s looking at the past wondering how I came to feel this way about a social life, about how although I know by now I need one and I do get excited about having one about starting a new era in my life, more than anything I feel unable to do the work that I’m told needs to be done to get there.  And even if we do get there, there’s always that part of me questioning – is this going to last?  And perhaps this is selfish of me, not caring what I can learn on the way, just longing for that connection, that security.  Perhaps it is cowardly of me.  But with the big picture, I don’t feel afraid.  Sure I get anxious like everyone does, but no more, no less. 

Most of the time (not right now) it feels I have to keep myself from falling asleep.  I don’t know how much this has to do with the history of my social life, with my medication, or with physiology but it is damn uncomfortable to feel tired and be told not to sleep.  At the daycare, my supervisor Alley is amazing.  On Thursday she told me I’d be working 9-5 all next week.  I smiled at her, said thanks in kind of a begrudging manner and she also smiled a little nervously at me.  She knows how to direct people, but she also cares for them (or rather shows she cares for them).  I guess I’ll be belonging at the daycare all next week, I just hope I can handle it, not being so tired that I feel like sleeping.  So far I know this working at the daycare has been good for me – a place to belong, kids that are so authentic you want to pull adults hairs out who aren’t, people you can relate to but also people who are really energetic – it all feels good so far.  But I’ve only been working half-days?  They want me to work full days.  And I know I’m blowing this out of proportion, I’ll probably be expending more energy worrying about this, than actually working – it’s like me with all my actions before I remember that this is what i’m doing.  I guess that’s my major fear – being tired, being in a situation where people expect me to think, to act and not being able to.