u/newniemooniie

I wanted to share something I’ve observed in myself to see if anyone else relates, and to understand whether this is something inherent to our Enneagram type or if it can be explained through it.

I struggle significantly when it comes to making plans to go out and socialize. Even though I like the people involved, and even though I know the activity or plan itself isn't something I dislike—and that I might actually enjoy it—I feel anxious while making the plans and right up until the day arrives. I just don't want to go out; imagining all the sensory stimulation almost makes me feel nauseous.

Once we actually meet up, after an hour or two, I become quiet and lose the desire to talk. It feels like my brain just shuts down. I end up wishing the people next to me would keep talking while I just stay silent and exist there. There are a few people I hang out with, and I have no issues with them. Our relationships and the topics we discuss are deep enough, and I truly enjoy their conversation. However, after a certain point, I feel completely drained physically, mentally, and spiritually. On my way back home, I get headaches, feel sleepy, and even listening to music can feel overwhelming. This happens regardless of whether the topics were deep or not. I don't have any underlying physiological issues—my blood work is completely fine. Yet, no matter who I'm with, this is always how it goes.

On top of this, I can become severely impatient and irritated. The very next day after hanging out, I often don't want to text or message that person. Even if they didn't do anything wrong or make me feel negative, it's as if the person starts to irritate me, and I can't figure out why. It upsets me because these are well-meaning, good people. It's not their fault. When I look inward, I don't have any repressed emotions, lingering anger, or resentment. I simply reach a point where I don't want to interact with people I've been exposed to for too long. My best friend is someone who constantly wants to stay in touch, chat, and hang out. We've discussed this many times, and they seem to understand me now. Still, who I am sometimes bothers me. But I can't force myself either; this is as much as I can do.

I realize that most of the time, I don't make plans because I'm genuinely excited or motivated to see people. Instead, I make plans because I feel the need to be stimulated, to think, to analyze things during conversation, or simply because I feel I should get out, move around, and get some fresh air. This feels strange to me. Other people meet up with me—and with each other—with so much love, excitement, and joy. Inside, I just can't find or feel that kind of enthusiasm. Of course, I care about them and choose to spend time with them, but seeing them like that while I am like this makes me wonder: Am I a bad person? Am I failing to give people what they deserve?

When I get back home, I realize I have zero patience left for my parents or family members—for their stories, small talk, or anything similar. Sometimes I even feel a surge of anger when they push to talk or try to show me something on their phone. I love them, but an involuntary irritation arises when I come in from outside, or when I'm trying to process something in my head and my thoughts are loud. I try my best to explain myself calmly because I know they don't deserve negative treatment.

Do you relate to this? Have you found an answer or explanation for this within yourselves?
Thank you if you've read this far, and thanks in advance for your responses.

One of the biggest issues I struggle with is that when I feel an emotion, I just can't bring myself to simply let it be and feel it.

To give you an example: I graduated last summer with a double major. One of my majors was Psychology, and if I want to pursue clinical psychology, the country I live in requires a Master's degree to get that title. That means a 2-year Master's program along with a supervised internship. However, I wanted to take a gap year. I wanted to see what it felt like not being a student for a year. My university years were intense—I was hyper-focused on success and tried to maintain high GPAs in both majors. I was exhausted and just wanted to catch my breath.

But I couldn't breathe at all. It turned out to be a really tough year for me. For the first few months, I had a genuinely hard time even getting out of bed, and later, my panic attacks returned—even though I had stopped going to therapy late last summer thinking I didn't need it anymore. Moving back to my family's home after spending three years in a dorm added to the slump I felt throughout the year. My dream was to enjoy just being me, without a specific label or the rush of student life and responsibilities. I wanted to do all the things I couldn't do when school was busy. But I ended up doing almost nothing. I rarely read books, rarely watched shows or movies. Even the meetups I went to for social life were mostly done out of a sense of obligation. Two months ago, I started therapy again, and I'm doing much better now.

In this past year, the only thing I did for my future career was a two-week clinical internship at a hospital. Researching Master's programs, preparing my CV, taking language exams... I only found the courage to take the language exam a few weeks ago, despite having a whole year. Now, I see everyone from my department getting accepted into Master's programs one by one. (I truly wish the best for all of them.) Here I am, only now starting to do the readings and research for graduate school, while so many people did what they needed to do on time and didn't waste any. I'm at that age where some of my friends are getting married, some are ending long relationships, some are doing their Master's, some are working, and others aren't working or studying but are taking care of their parents and running the household. Some have thrown themselves into traveling, focusing on enjoying life.
Whenever I start feeling bad, I can feel my aggressive inner critic getting louder. But another part of me does everything it can to keep me from drowning in that emotion. It gets angry at me, saying, "Get a grip! You know why you're at this point, you had your reasons." And yes, I know I had my reasons and that there are logical explanations for where I am. But the feeling doesn't go away. And I have no idea how I'm supposed to actually feel my emotions. All I can do is ignore them. Even as I write this post, it feels like a part of me is forcibly trying to stop the rest of me from writing and thinking about this topic.

Because logically, I know that comparing myself to others or measuring my own pace against theirs makes no sense. Everyone has their own path, and everyone pauses and moves forward at different times. I know this. But a part of me still feels sorry for myself.

I'm aware of the things I do to suppress my feelings: distancing myself from friends who want to talk about it, constantly trying to distract my mind by watching or reading things, and various other coping mechanisms. I know I just need to feel what I'm feeling. I should feel it. But how?

If anyone has any advice or has gone through something similar, I'd really love to hear it. If you've read this far, thank you.