Are You Addicted to Me?

A late start to my Saturday means that the groceries are purchased and supper (hopefully for a few nights) is in the crock pot, but that exercise class went on without me. Oh well. There is enough to do around our house to keep my legs and mind busy.

For now, though, I'm sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and watching Roni take a nap. While trying to clean the dining room of clutter I came across a note I wrote to myself a few months ago, while listening to a podcast of Wiretap, by Jonathan Goldstein. (If you've never listened to Wiretap, I highly recommend it! Check your local NPR website for broadcast day/time or subscribe to the podcast like I do)

That particular show was about addictions and one of the guests read her essay on addictions to people. I immediately identified with the author. She described this constant urge to be with people, to be in the center of the action, to always have plans. However, whenever she was physically WITH these people and immediately afterwards, she was miserable. She would ask herself "Why am I here? Why do I like these people? What am I getting out of this???"

She came to the conclusion that she was addicted to people, based on three questions a person would ask themselves to try to determine if they're suffering from an addiction:

1. What is [this] doing for me?
2. Do I actually enjoy [this]?
3. What is this costing me (financially, mentally, emotionally, physically) and is it worth it?

She decided that she was addicted to people who were constantly "taking," never "giving." Who sucked the fun out of situations instead of amping up the fun. Who gave her nothing to think about. And like I said, I immediately decided that yes, I was also addicted to certain people and I needed to break this addiction.

But then a horrifying thought crossed my mind: What if people are addicted to ME? What if I'M the taker, rarely the giver? Do I make social situations fun or do I unload problems on my friends? Am I too ego-centric to notice? Do people go home after being with me and feel drained or uplifted? They were chilling thoughts and after running though times in my life that I felt addictED, I was now cycling through memories and finding all my addictING moments.

I've been mulling these thoughts around in my mind for weeks now. Of course at the same time I was also planning a wedding, where the primary focus was George and me. Weeks and months of celebratory events and attention haven't exactly offered the clearest picture of self-examination. But as I sit in a quiet house, alone with my thoughts, I feel like I'm swimming up from great depths of self-absorption, ready to shed the weight of gossip, minutiae, and "me."