Headache

Not that I ever plan posts here, but for the past few days I have had one circ­ling around my head, repeatedly remind­ing me that it had to be writ­ten down. It was — or is due to be, if it ever makes it to the page — on the sub­ject of Being Needy.

Because, you see, I am ashamed to admit that I used to be needy, dread­fully needy, until the morn­ing when I woke up and decided that being that way was mak­ing me into a thor­oughly unpleas­ant per­son. I decided, instead, to become hard-faced and self-sufficient: “I don’t need any­thing from any­one in any way what­so­ever, thank you very much”. And I’m not sure what that pro­cess has done to me, if I’m honest.

I’d like to say that mak­ing the above change turned me into someone who was thor­oughly, excep­tion­ally and impress­ively inde­pend­ent. I’d like to say that, but I can’t. I think it might just have left me with the hard face, and a deeply ingrained need to feel needed. Which is a kind of need in itself, isn’t it? Or something.

So that was going to be my post. I sup­pose I’ve just writ­ten it too, albeit in rather less eleg­ant and poetic lan­guage than I ori­gin­ally planned, and without the detailed psy­cho­lo­gical self-analysis (read ‘navel-gazing’) that undoubtedly would have ensued. This entry, then, hasn’t been brought to you by a lack of words, excess­ive tired­ness, and a gen­eral feel­ing of ennui.

And the reason for writ­ing this entry? Here? Now? In it’s highly abridged form? Iron­ic­ally, it’s because I’m feel­ing needy. Again. For the first time in ages. Find­ing myself unable to make decisions about any­thing, I rather want some­body to turn up at my front door tonight and tell me what I’m doing, where I’m going, and then drag me there (or any­where away from here) for the week­end, for a week, for a month, maybe forever.

I blame a stream of con­scious­ness for this entry. That side of me always has an uncanny knack of being able to con­quer my tend­ency towards obfus­ca­tion, and that men­tal vic­tory often makes me write things I know I shouldn’t, which end up mak­ing me feel very very sheep­ish and embar­rassed in the morning.

Quick, some­body remind me of those all moments when I’ve believed without a shadow of a doubt that being needy is for fools. I need to regain my steely resolve. Please.

Note: In case you’re temp­ted not to believe me about the rapid stream of con­scious­ness, let me tell you that this post was writ­ten in the space of approx­im­ately three and a half minutes, seem­ingly without util­ising any logical think­ing what­so­ever. Phew, rock ‘n’ roll.