The other thing that happens to the person who comes out of his shell is that he becomes vulnerable. More easily hurt.
Defense mechanisms are created for a reason. At the moment, I'm experiencing the reason why mine were created. I'm lonely.
In my shell, I could write novels, play City of Heroes, read comicbooks, live other lives, pretend myself elsewhere. When my brain was engaged, I didn't care what was going on around me. Or what wasn't going on around me. Now I care. Now I miss the company of my friends. I miss not hearing their voices. It hurts to be away from them.
I'm supposed to have an Other. Matt has one. My Friend The Doctor has one. My Childhood Bud has one. They can intersect into my life and enjoy me, but then they turn back to their own lives and enjoy/fight with/get freaky on their Others. They fulfill their emotional imperatives. And I'm left with what? Regrets.
This might have been why I formed a shell and a nice wall of fears to protect myself. When you grow up the only child of a single working parent who didn't show you affection (unless you count anger and sarcasm as affection), you couldn't afford to get "lonely". Not if you were going to grow up with a shred of sanity.
Heh. Joke's on me, as it turned out.
I spoke to Childhood Bud for about an hour tonight. It felt nice. Now I've blogged. Now I'm going to go to sleep. But tomorrow I'll wake up again, and it'll start all over again.
I'd better upgrade my calling plan.