innercondition:

Every winter I become antisocial. I lay around in my room. I refuse to get on any instant messaging service. I turn off my phone. I lock my door. If people really want to get a hold of me, they can, but there rarely are any emergencies that require my attention.

It happens every year. There is something about snow that prevents me from interacting with the rest of the world. Maybe I pretend that I’m in a 10 feet wide snow globe. Maybe I feel like I’m meant to hibernate. Maybe it’s just really too cold to move around. Whatever it is, I prefer my own company to the company of others. And by my own company, I really mean whatever I pick out on Netflix.

Like this last weekend. I was invited out. I had people who claimed they wanted to hang out with me. I had plans to party and revel in the weekend. But as soon as I woke up, I put my phone on silent and I got occupied with the people of Netflix.

I don’t feel like getting involved in real people’s lives. I don’t want to play a role in anyone else’s storyline. I don’t want to be a supporting character. I don’t want to influence anyone else. I just kind of want to exist. I don’t want others to distract me with their problems.

But when I watch hours and hours of seasons worth of shows, I can get involved in fictional lives without the power of any influence. I can be entertained by the lives of strangers without having to deal with their tangible drama.

I don’t have to go to bars and incessantly comfort these people for accidentally murdering their probation officer. I don’t have to hold their hands through their suicidal breakups. I don’t have to bail them out of jail when they make some stupid mistake. I don’t have to do anything. I can just watch it happen from the comfort of my bed. I love getting completely wrapped up in these silly stories.

I can really get to know these characters. I can fall in love with them. I can be their episode long friend. I know all of their secrets and desires anyways. I can understand them more intimately than their wives and husbands. I know the things they can’t tell anyone else. I understand why they hide things and why the lie about things and why they say about things. Having that kind of knowledge about someone is exciting.

 I love imaging that I’m getting drinks with Don Draper and, dancing with Liz Lemon and, tossing a football with Six and, going hiking with Leslie Knope. I get twisted up in their fantasies and carried away by their ridiculous plots. They distract me, entertain me and keep me company. But most of all, I’m glad I’m not they are completely imaginary and that I don’t have to be their actual real-life friend. Honestly, I don’t think I have the energy to have a relationship that requires me to be away from my bed.

ENDNOTES: Rae Warren is a student studying English and Psychology at a university in Iowa. You can follow her at  http://sweatersandsass.tumblr.com/