For the longest time, I avoided social networking sites like the plague.  Who do I have to keep tabs on?  Then one fateful day--I'm sure it was a dark and stormy night--I stumbled upon Facebook games.  I may as well have walked smack dab into the middle of a black hole with grinning pixels beckoning me onward.  You don't realize how much time those types of games take up until you drag your head out of Pixelville and realize MONTHS of inactivity on other important sites--I'm so sorry for neglecting you, DeviantArt--have passed.  You realize your skills are rusty, your creativity is stuck solid, and your attention span mirrors that of a six month old kitten in a room full of blowing feathers.  

Anyhow, I sent a distress signal to the Enterprise, and Scotty was kind enough to beam me the Hell out of Pixelville and back into the real world, but learn from my mistake.  Those games are mindless addictions good enough to pass a few minutes of pointing and clicking as long as you aren't sucked in for the foreseeable future.  How in the world am I going to get back to my art and writing now that my attention span is doomed?!



Dear Ms. SociallyConfident,

I'd love to be able to tell you how much I envy your abiity to command a crowd, but that would make me sound needy.  I'd love to convey how much I wish I could be comfortable in crowds of people, but that terrifies me.  I really do wish I could ask you how you learned to be so at ease holding a conversation with everyone you meet, but I don't do cries for help.  I'd love to know how you convinced yourself the opinions of others don't matter and that you don't have to replay conversations over in your head dreaming up things you wished you'd said, but you make me uncomfortable.  My vapid stare is still holding everyone at bay, right?

Sincerely,
SocialAnxietySuferer