Yet Another Refugee from Livejournal

My last two journal entries were both about things I recently
posted at my “site”on The Well.  This one isn't.

This is to let you know about a couple of mishaps I've had lately: I fell down.  Twice.

The first time, I was a on a ladder in my living room, and then a twinge caused me to lose my balance, and then I was lying on the floor, on my side.  I decided not to use that ladder
again.  And I went on about my life, more or less normally, for two weeks.

Yesterday, I fell down again.  The culprit this time was some slippery outdoor stairs.  I ended up in a remarkably similar position—lying on my side—only on wet ground.

I took more drastic action this time: was seen at the doctor's office the same day.  Got X-rayed, confirmed an absence of any fractures, not even the “hairline” kind.  Wheels
were set in motion to get me into physical therapy.

This didn't come out of nowhere: a month and a half ago, I told my doctor about an increase in lower back pain.  What I didn't understand, then, was that such an increase is often gradual … until it isn't.  One day, you try a movement you've done before, but this time, the muscles (joints, whatever) can't handle it.  So: twinge of pain, spasm, fall down go boom.

No physical therapist yet, but I will claim already to have heightened powers of observation, with early indications that this may help the situation going forward.

This is what is known as a growth opportunity.
 

Okay, here's the long-promised continuation of my so-called "holiday newsletter."  First, a follow-up note to the first section, "computer programming," of the previous post: I finished several improvements to the Clojure code which calculates my income taxes, and got my federal and North Carolina returns filed.

What I promised for the continuation was some information about social interaction.

Background: I lead a pretty solitary life.  Not a surprise: computer programming and writing are both mostly solitary activities, and I spend so much time on them, by choice, that there's relatively little left for real-time interaction with other humans.

Too little, in fact.  And I am making that judgment, not on the basis of any general belief about how people "ought" to live, but on observation of myself.  Sometimes I "go with the flow" for an extended period while programming and/or writing, and end up in a tense state, all tied up in knots.

It took me a long time to realize that I was (often) getting tense because I had been solitary for too long.  But eventually I noticed something: not infrequently, if something led me to take "time out" from my "work," and spend an hour or two chatting informally with someone, I felt better—specifically, less tense—afterwards.  In fact, it finally sunk in, that would often enable me to go back to "work" more cheerfully … and do better at it.

Once I became conscious of this, I did something about it.  Actually, I became more consistent in something I was already doing … without consciously realizing why.  Since I saw that I didn't spontaneously devote enough time to social interaction, I started planning it.

This has evolved to the point where, currently, there are three people with whom I have scheduled weekly conversations.  The nature of the conversations is not so very different from ones that might occur without prearrangement.  But when two people agree in advance to talk at a particular time, then it happens more often.  For me, and these three friends, at least.

I am very grateful to these people.  With their help, I like to say, I have managed to turn myself from a "ridiculously extreme introvert" into a [merely] "extreme introvert."

There's room for improvement.  Not necessarily more of the same modality, though I don't rule that out.  I've been thinking about my use of Internet "social media" (such as Dreamwidth itself).

There are some limitations, pretty much built in, as to how personally meaningful—how deep, if you will—such interactions tend to be.  But perhaps, if folks figure out how, those limitations can be largely overcome.  I hope to say more about this, soon, in another journal entry.