I understand too. It's supposed to be happy and carefree, and be celebrated with joy and jubilation that all is joy in the world. But I can not relax. It's like I miss the isolation.
times I remember very vividly when I was little that what made me happiest was to spend a weekend without leaving home, alone, doing my thing. Then suddenly I began to feel the need to see my friends, and the more time I spent with them was happier, but I've always had a sort of phobia of crowds of many people, and I stressed to be long periods of time without time for me. It's easy, I suppose, to draw conclusions about what that would freak child these things and the filth of friends who must
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