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Allow me to clarify...
I really need to start putting a little disclaimer stamp somewhere on my posts or something, especially if I'm not on my own computer to have a Q&A session afterward.
I suppose I should have put an "I'm okay" sign on my last post. Because I am. Not entirely, because I'm not dashing about the countryside singing "the hills are alive with the sound of music," but I'm not about to go off the deep end, either.
Please file to the emergency exits in an orderly fashion. This is a test of the emergency response system. Do not panic. This is a drill.
Ahem.
Also, I'd like to point out that most of the time, when I post in my journal, I don't expect anything from the people who read it. When I write that I'm feeling disconnected, I'm not fishing for comments, and I'm not dropping hints that people should call me (which would be useless given that I'm not home right now anyway). I'm simply recording a feeling. I don't necessarily mean disconnected from my friends, either. In this case, I meant disconnected from reality, although I didn't say it explicitly. Maybe I should have.
Something about my post seems to have been misinterpreted as fishing for attention, and, well, I'm a little annoyed about that. Both with myself, for having come off that way when it wasn't my intention, and with the few people who interpreted the post that way when it seemed clear to most that all I was doing was elaborating on my state of mind.
I write in this journal for myself primarily, but also because I like to know that other people are reading. I never had the patience for a paper journal. I generally abandon them after a few weeks at the most. But I try not to demand too much from those who read this LJ, lest they make the same demands on me. If I demand that they comment and interact and otherwise be at my beck and call, then I have to do the same for them, and sometimes I'm just not up to the task. There are days, weeks, even, when I don't have the energy to comment. I read, I sympathise, I laugh and cry and smile and empathise and smirk and become indignant and share the moments other people choose to share with me, but sometimes reading is all I can give. Why, then, should I expect more of them?
I suppose I should have put an "I'm okay" sign on my last post. Because I am. Not entirely, because I'm not dashing about the countryside singing "the hills are alive with the sound of music," but I'm not about to go off the deep end, either.
Please file to the emergency exits in an orderly fashion. This is a test of the emergency response system. Do not panic. This is a drill.
Ahem.
Also, I'd like to point out that most of the time, when I post in my journal, I don't expect anything from the people who read it. When I write that I'm feeling disconnected, I'm not fishing for comments, and I'm not dropping hints that people should call me (which would be useless given that I'm not home right now anyway). I'm simply recording a feeling. I don't necessarily mean disconnected from my friends, either. In this case, I meant disconnected from reality, although I didn't say it explicitly. Maybe I should have.
Something about my post seems to have been misinterpreted as fishing for attention, and, well, I'm a little annoyed about that. Both with myself, for having come off that way when it wasn't my intention, and with the few people who interpreted the post that way when it seemed clear to most that all I was doing was elaborating on my state of mind.
I write in this journal for myself primarily, but also because I like to know that other people are reading. I never had the patience for a paper journal. I generally abandon them after a few weeks at the most. But I try not to demand too much from those who read this LJ, lest they make the same demands on me. If I demand that they comment and interact and otherwise be at my beck and call, then I have to do the same for them, and sometimes I'm just not up to the task. There are days, weeks, even, when I don't have the energy to comment. I read, I sympathise, I laugh and cry and smile and empathise and smirk and become indignant and share the moments other people choose to share with me, but sometimes reading is all I can give. Why, then, should I expect more of them?