I have an empathy problem.
Being naturally introverted, I possess an ability to "read" people, to detect what their wants or needs might be, sometimes in ways I don't consciously suspect. I try to use this ability to identify with people in one-on-one situations, relating to their concerns and doing my best to size up their wants and needs in an attempt to make them feel better about themselves and, by extension, me.
Often times, this comes in handy with first impressions, and in the right mindset, I've been able to positively connect and stay in touch with folks I've met in fleeting, happenstance situations. Other times, I let myself get caught up in the other person's problems, setting myself on their emotional wavelength during times when they're down or in trouble. Not the healthiest habit to pick up. Beats smoking, I guess.
Like I said, I have an empathy problem, which is a polite way of saying that I can be way too sensitive about emotional junk.
This has been a manageable problem for most of my life. In the past, I've been friends with people who trended towards feeling overly put-upon, and on occasion I've had to wean myself away from them for my own personal sanity. My tendency is to put myself on their level, instead of bring them up to mine, and I realized that for my own sake, it was better if I not spend time with them. Hard choices, and all.
That was before I started using Twitter as extensively as I do now. Twitter is full of wonderful people, with great communities of writers I respect and friends to swap word games with, and I wouldn't swap it for all of the coffee in Columbia. I'm more of a tea guy, myself. Twitter itself isn't the problem.
My problem comes from whom I choose to follow. In an effort to establish myself as part of a greater games-writing community, I've tried to pick out as many influential, big-name movers and shakers as I can, along with lots of other cool folk that I've met hither and yon. Most of the time, my feed is a great fit for me, throwing out sideways references to Disney features or '90s teen pop or what-have-you, and creating a community that I want to be a part of. The other times, well…
Before I continue, I want to emphasize that this isn't a smack-talk piece against anyone in particular, or even a group of someones. It's a matter of recognizing that I interpret words and thoughts differently than someone else might, and what's good for many may not be good for me. There's nothing wrong with tuning in to different wavelengths, and I respect that everyone has the right to tweet whatever they would like* without having to ask my say.
That said, just like with friends who I let myself by brought down by, I need to do what's good for me and move on.
I'm trying to clean up the way I think, the way I interact with other human beings. I'm trying to improve the way I talk with myself, the kinds of thoughts that go through my head. I want, I keep telling myself, to be happier and to love myself more. It's a worthy goal, I think, and if I'm serious about meeting it, I need to monitor the kinds of messages I take in, as well as the ones I put out. Trim away the bad stuff, and fill myself with positive thoughts. Only then can I make the negative voices in my head go away, or at least build up the good ones enough that I can ward 'em off.
This will mean, if you haven't guessed, being more selective of whom I choose to interact with Twitter. It will also mean potentially unfollowing smart, talented writers and content creators, and might limit my scope of what's going on in the games-writing "scene." I've decided that's okay. It's not personal—well, actually, it is; I'm doing it for me, based on the emotional reactions I get from how I choose to interpret the messages of others. Literally, personal.
I've started to realize that, despite how fun it can be to act snarky or watch Twitter fights, it's rarely worth it. Schadenfreude can only take me so far before it starts to negatively affect me. Think of it like a bad pizza: it feels nourishing while you're in the moment, but it only takes a short amount of time before it starts to sit heavily in your gut, and if you're anything like me, you'll carry it around for the rest of the day.
(forgive me. It's late, and I'm hungry)
Fortunately, trimming my follows won't adversely affect anyone I know personally or directly interact with on a regular basis. I'm just focusing the conversation a bit more. Focusing on messages that aren't so full of anger or dark irony or disrespect. It's their prerogative how they choose to express themselves that way; it's mine to decide what to do with it. They'd probably say the same thing. I just know that with so much negative junk going on this week, I can't deal with anymore bad feels than I have to. Besides, if you think regularly reciprocating somber feelings with an acquaintance is tough, imagine doing it one-way, multiple times a day, for at least a year.
Not only that, I want to propagate the same positive messages that I crave myself. "Become the change," and all that. Perhaps with less negative voices, I won't feel such internal pressure to snark off about something in order to fit in with my made-up idea of what The Internet wants to see from me. The trick will be to figure out how to best implement my positive feelings, and how I can harness them when they aren't immediately apparent.
Which isn't to say that I don't love wry sarcasm or won't stand for someone complaining about a rough day at work. Hell, Twitter was made for spleen-venting like that. I just need to choose people with a better positive-to-negative ration than I have before.
I hope I can join the conversation again when I feel good enough about myself to weather emotions that aren't directly similar to mine. That will take some growing up on my part. But then again, if I am a growing boy, then I need to feed myself good things in order to reach my full potential. As it is, I'm emotionally malnourished, and it's time I recognized that and did something about it to help myself.
*within the confines of Wheaton's Law, anyway
