I know I’m socially dysfunctional

It’s Thursday so I’m playing along with Yay for Home except this week my “I know” post is more “things I want to know”.

I want to know…When did I become so socially inept?

I know I’m an extrovert by nature.

I know talking is what I do best.

I know I’ve never been part of the in-crowd per say, but I’ve always had plenty of friends, felt confident and comfortable in groups and managed to strike up conversations with randoms fairly easily.

I know something has changed. I can never say the right thing anymore. I get tongue-tied and things never come out the way I intend. All to frequently I find myself saying completely inappropriate stuff (especially at work) and am constantly apologising for my social ineptitude and looking for the closest rock to crawl under.

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I know I’ve become the epitome of the social faux pas.

I know I suffer a constant case of “Mouth is open, should be closed”

I know the excuse of baby-brain is getting old. Sleep deprivation is no doubt a contributor, but these days to a lesser degree. So why am I so socially impaired? It’s getting to the point I want to avoid social situations. I feel anxious at the very prospect of interacting with people on anything more than a superficial level. Even family.

I know I must resist the temptation to become a hermit and only communicate with the outside world through social media, where I can consider and proofread my interactions before putting them out there.

I know this is the reason I’m drawn to blogging –  it’s one of the few social arenas where I can excercise any sort of filter. Draft, read, edit, reread, re-edit, reread, publish!!

What I really want to know is, has the process of having children killed off half my brain cells? Surely this can’t be the sole cause of my fall from the step stool of social grace, on which I was once precariously perched? Perhaps it is further evidence of the evil ‘D’ word about which I remain firmly in denial (someday I will muster the courage to post about it).

I want to know if I’ll ever be socially confident again…

Do you suffer from social anxiety? If so, how do you deal with it?

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The Procrastination Gene

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“Very sorry running late”

If my friends received a dollar for every time they received this text message from me they would be rich (and would no doubt invite me over more often).

Once upon a time, I used to be organised. In fact, at work I still manage some semblance of organisation and punctuality. Put me in a social setting and I’m more than hopeless.

I blame the Procrastination Gene. My father has is. My aunt has it. My grandma has it. There is simply no escaping the fact that a susceptibility to distraction induced tardiness runs strong in my veins. It is getting worse with age.

Mornings are the worst. I’m definitely not a morning person and it takes quite a while for me to become fully functional. Add cold weather and other people to organise and any slim chance of punctuality will be buried somewhere under a rumpled doona or half finished bowl of cereal.  Throw an obsession with social media into the mix and all hope is lost.

Having  insight into the problem helps and I manage to implement strategies to help minimise the problem some of the time.  But even if I’m super organised (like this morning for a playdate with Miss Moo & her boys) often a false sense of security will open the door for a little procrastination, I overestimate how much time I’ve got to abuse my snooze button and/or underestimate how long it takes to get clothes onto an uncooperative man-child. The next thing I know I’ve lost half an hour and am scrambling to get out the door.

The Wilful One worries me.  The Procrastination Gene is strong in that one at such an early age. How will I ever teach him to overcome a genetic predisposition to faff around when I cannot master it myself?

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This can be such an embarrassing and socially debilitating condition. Perhaps a some sort of support group is in order.

Hello, my name is Nee and I am a Procrastinator.

To all my long-suffering friends & family – I’m sorry and thank you for your continued patience.

Do you or someone you love have the Procrastination Gene?

 

 

Sassy images from We Heart It