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A better day comes along, and I tell myself that it's not that I'm unwilling to commit, it's that I haven't found my career true love yet. I am unwilling to settle. I'm making progress, improving and learning with each step I take, getting stronger at understanding what I love and what I won't grit my teeth through anymore.
The potential for leaving people out of a social event drives me so crazy I almost prefer not to host anything. Leaving me hanging after a text nearly kills me with worry that I've said something offensive. Drinking gives me a break from my inner critic, and while I'm socializing after a few I feel like I'm on fire, but I pay for it with ridiculous analyses and self-reprimand in the other direction the next morning. These examples don't even tap into the prologue of the social anxiety textbook that is me. Yay.
Work, work. Perpetually behind. What on earth did I do with my time before? Are my kid's feet freezing? Was it my turn for snack? What's on for the weekend? Are they okay? Until the day I die: Are. They. Okay?
Reassurance. Sympathy. Someone to "talk" to, as often as you wish and at all hours of day and night. All potential benefits of Twitter that may offer psychological comfort, but is the tradeoff of creating a public record of struggle and potential for damaging feedback worth it?