9:10 a.m. - Tuesday, Aug. 19, 2003
I'm dying of boredom. I should be filing my boss's e-mails. God. I'm dying by inches.
If there were a scale for Highly Sensitive People, I think I'd be about 9 on a scale of 10 -- 10 being completely nonfunctional. I know I'm a cold and unfriendly person, but for me it's a matter of survival. Last night a cyberamie whom I haven't communicated with in a long time sent me an e-mail. This is a person I like and admire. Frankly, I'm amazed she even wants to hear from me. I was flattered to receive the e-mail. And I got, maybe, four hours of sleep last night, because of it. I can't cope with ordinary human interaction the way normal people can. Even nice people upset me. Nice people on the computer upset me. Nice people in person upset me even more. Mean people, on the computer or in the flesh, give me nervous breakdowns. This has been a lifelong problem and it's getting worse as I age and lose my resiliency. So I have to be cold and unfriendly, to keep people at a distance.
Which is why I don't regret not having children: because I wouldn't want any other human being to have to go through what I go through on a daily basis and cumulatively.