MY SOCIAL BATTERY
I was once told (by an esteemed psychiatrist) that I have an engine ticking away inside me. My little red engine that chugs away continuously and unlike other people, it never turns off. It’s part of my Bipolar II diagnosis – I have no off switch. Instead, I have hyperarousal 24/7. But that’s a story for another day. Trust me when I say, I have an engine.
I also have a battery
And I want to talk about my battery today. Another part of my diagnosis is fluctuations in mood. And to treat and maintain that, I have mood stabilisers. Whoever named them was not feeling overly imaginative at the time – mood stabilisers stabilise mood. And while I have been known to bemoan the flattening effects they have, they do not even things out to completely flatline. Thank goodness. There are still small waves of mood movement and those changes are most obvious when I’m socialising.
I used to love being in big groups of people. It felt like I had a sense of community, as if I belonged somewhere. Even if I was still the quiet, anxious one most of the time. I loved going out dancing and being in bars. Doing all the after parties in the shows I performed in. Being invited to dinners and parties and functions. A musician’s life is a very social one. There are all the rehearsals and performances and then the inevitable gatherings after, with performers and audience alike to reflect on what was just created and cast into the world.
I can’t do that any more
My social battery dies pretty quick these days. In groups I feel completely overwhelmed, isolated and alone. If I can find a single person to latch onto for conversation and company I will be okay. But when there’s just general back and forth banter in a group, I can’t participate. I don’t have the storage capacity for maintaining those kinds of conversations.
It is sometimes easier in a group of a hundred people than it is with ten. In the very big groups you can disappear into a quiet little world with just one other person. In the smaller groups there is conversation going on around me that eventually becomes too much to take part in. My battery is almost instantly drained by the sheer volume of energy around me – seeping into my space, draining everything away, and wearing me out.
And then one on one I’m fabulous
Even in a group of three I feel good. Back and forth banter that sparks a little fire inside me and I can get excitable and chatty. My battery filling up and feeling fully charged, staying that way for quite some time. So long in fact, sometimes I don’t want it to end.
Those intimate connections can recharge my little battery. Making me feel connected again, as though I have a place in society. I belong somewhere. I can see and hear the emotional depths in other people, and I feel seen and heard in return.
Of course there are still individuals who will instantly drain me, but I think you know what I mean by that. We all experience those situations that simply do not work and it is a drudge to force conversation and connections where none exist.
I am instantly depleted in those moments
I have been at social events where I suddenly feel my energy evaporate and I stand up and say, “My social battery is dead” and then I gather my things and just go home. It is a very physical feeling, starting deep in my belly and radiating out, until all of me just feels heavy and lethargic.
It can happen in a heartbeat. One moment I’m engaged and sharing and feeling a sense of convivial camaraderie. And the next it’s like someone ripped the plug out and all the reserves in my small tank, flooded out in an instant. That sense of nothing left to give just washes over me and I have to leave. I can hear conversation around me but it’s muted and grey and I can’t force myself through the veil to connect. I have to go home, crawl into my nightie, and curl up in my little nesting spot. Alone with my battery, waiting for the meter to slowly refill.
We all have a battery
It’s just that mine is smaller than most these days. Partly because of how much I changed when I became so mentally unwell. And partly because I have quite simply, aged. Older people often dislike large groups for the very same reason. We have less energy as we age and the things that drain us will do so more quickly because the social storage capacity is just not as big as it once was.
My personal battery is very very small. My little red engine that never ever turns off, churning away inside me causing constant levels of anxiety and hypervigilance, has a cost. It sucks the life out of my battery so that when I’m around other people there is not a lot to share around. If the connection is not recharging me, then it is draining me. And the energy doesn’t last long.
I still want the invites so I can feel wanted and valued, but I used to be the one who stayed at the party until the last person was gone. Now I’m the girl who goes to a dinner party and parks my car in a spot where I can make a fast get away the moment my battery hits empty. Back home to my safe, quiet little life that I actually quite enjoy, thank you very much.
