The Introvert

It's 3:00 a.m. and I'm awake. The Dude is asleep like a normal person, and Bea has sensibly gone to bed. Sprinkles, generally being devoid of good sense, is also up and circling my laptop and getting in my business, probably because she feels she's due a late-night snack.

I read a little blip on introversion today. Every now and then it's nice to read about others' experiences with being introverted. We're in the minority in a society that values extroversion. I particularly liked reading the comments and felt a sense of camaraderie with people who reported doing things I do:

Staring off into space
Not smiling much
Being quiet unless there's a topic of interest being discussed
Not bothering with small talk
Being given to honest and open discussions to the exclusion of social niceties
Getting drained from companionship quickly
Needing to be left alone for large blocks of time

These things tend to strike people as strange or worse: anti-social. Past friends have come down hard on me for being this way, as though I were rude or unpleasant to be around. I thoroughly enjoy people's company, I just don't initiate conversations with people I don't know because I find it taxing. It usually requires me to do small talk and I hate that. I actually can't do it, not really.

I watch people interact all the time, usually talking about the little things or items of low interest to me. I don't know how to start these conversations, I don't really want to join them most of the time, but I do get a sense of loneliness when I appear to be the only party not conversing. I wonder if I'm avoiding the small talk or if people are avoiding me. Perhaps I appear aloof.

This must seem like a discrepancy, to hate small talk and to also feel left out of it. I suppose I just dislike the realization that my proclivity to be private and quiet means people think I'm unfriendly, or shy. I'm not shy at all. I really enjoy public speaking. It gives me a rush. I like to burst out of my shell at parties. I'll dance solo at weddings. I just also like to dine alone in restaurants, go shopping by myself and spend so much time in my head that I often don't notice what's around me.

I guess I kind of close the door on the world when I really get reflective, and people don't like the feeling of a door slamming in their face. I'm 28 years old and it's only the past few years I've really sort of accepted this about myself and started actively revealing myself as an introvert to people I care about. I spent my childhood and adolescence around friends, classmates and teachers who all thought I was either a jerk for not listening, stupid for not paying attention or a ditz for being unresponsive, when I was only overloaded from social stimuli at school and took many involuntary mental breaks.

I wonder what life would be like if we understood ourselves faster. Children don't know anything about themselves except what colours they like and their favourite foods. They know who their friends are, if they want to do something or don't want to go someplace. But they know jack about their personalities and don't really give it much thought. A self-aware kid would be an anomaly.

Teenagers dive into self-discovery, but often screw it up by doing a sort of self-moulding instead, where they copy other kids, hide their preferences, go with the group and try to be who they want to be instead of who they are. Conformity at all costs. Weirdos like me don't make the cut into acceptance and cool land.

One of the things I imagine sometimes is what sorts of ways I'd have reacted to people if I knew then what I know now, and was less apologetic about who I was. Because I did apologize, a lot.

I kind of hope I have an introverted kid, just so I can show him or her some understanding. I have an uncle who once called me a loner. My mom was unhappy about that, but I really appreciated it, just the acknowledgment that I am the way I am and don't need to always be socializing. It's nice when people really see you.

I suppose if I were a man, I could be considered the strong silent type. Too bad for me, I guess. Introverted women are more likely to be considered snobs.

Hermit Power

Okay, want to know something funny? I just realized I haven't left the house in six days, today being day six. It's still early, so I could end this madness, but I'm kind of pleased with myself about it. I just told the Dude, who hadn't noticed I've stayed in, and he snickered and called me his little hermit. I'm glad he understands me.

Now, usually I go for a few days in a row where I don't bother going out, but six is really quite extraordinary. I looked through my calendar and suddenly things started making a lot of sense.

Oct. 20th, we went to McPal's and his boyfriend's for dinner. The next day we went out with the Dude's parents. The day after that we went to his brother's wedding. The day after that was McPal's Halloween party. The day after that I got sick and realized Smokey was getting ready to die. The next day we went to see a wedding venue. The day after my maid of honour came up and I went out with her. The next day we went out to make a deposit on the venue and then we had to make an emergency trip to put Smokey to sleep. The next day McPal and his boyfriend came over with wine and cheesecake, and finally the next day we went swimming at Buddy B's girlfriend's place.

Yeah. Minus my beloved pet dying, I was happy to spend all that time with everyone. But hot damn if the introvert in me is not on strike from society, taking a little private time to grieve my cat and overall recuperating from the cold that wouldn't quit.

The Dude's company keeps me from being one of those nutty types who starts to deteriorate while keeping away from civilization. But I've needed this time oh so badly. Some people would have gotten cabin fever by now. I've personally never really gotten too stir crazy before.

And considering we're about to go to Mexico for a week with my family in nine days, all this quiet time is probably for the best.

People who don't understand introversion sometimes misinterpret holing away and enjoying solitude as a dislike of people or shyness. I feel neither of those things. I'm not very shy at all, in my natural state, and I love people. Having fun with others simply wears me out and leaves me drained, like a battery in a digital camera, where the hardware is in good working order and is great at parties, but good luck taking one more picture without the camera dying on you before you recharge the batteries. Or something like that.

I have to leave the house tomorrow. I need to pick up ingredients for a quiche to bring to a potluck on Saturday after work. But until then, I'm going to lounge in my robe and play on the internet. Oh yeah.

Introvert

If anyone is curious as to how awesome homemade ice cream is, I can vouch for it. Sweet merciful Skittles, it is one hellzam of a treat.

The Dude and I used the ice cream maker from the '80s that his aunt passed on to him. It's cheesy looking and it does the job, with three different types of cream, a mess of sugar and two bags of ice. And chocolate and peanut butter.

And it was noisy. So of course we decided to make it at 11:00 at night. We felt justified in the face of the incessant opera singing we endure. Plus, whatever, it was a Saturday night. Heh. You know you're getting old when the idea of a bitchin' Saturday evening is staying in making homemade ice cream.

Problem is, I've been eating like a house cat, specifically like Smokey, which means often and holding out for the fattening and tasty things in life. I feel as though I'm some sort of bear getting ready for the winter. It's not too far off, actually. Last winter I hibernated so hardcore I left the house maybe twice a week. And I loved it.

I read this article about introversion the other day. I am the poster girl for introverts. Now, those who really know me get this about me. I like me time. I like holing up and avoiding all people for days. I love to socialize, but equally love to be very quiet and introspective for many hours afterwards. That's part of why I love to be home so much. It's a place to let my thoughts run their course, rather than having to put them on hold to talk to people.

And the funny thing is I really like people. I truly do. In fact, despite how angry I get over some terrible facets of stupidity in this world (Say Stephen Harper or pro-lifers or Glenn Beck), I still really think ultimately there's a lot of awesome people out there, and I want to hear from them.

I just like hearing from them in shorter bursts or on my own time. After too much socializing I zone out and stop responding to verbal stimuli. This is not an exaggeration. I do this all the time and I can't prevent it from happening ever. In school this was always very problematic as at no point in a school environment is any time ever given to any student to conduct their own private thoughts, because if you're not listening to the teacher you're supposed to be socializing at recess.

My mom had my hearing tested, wondering if I was going spontaneously deaf. Actually, my hearing is exemplary, almost too good. I'm highly sensitive to noises, especially ones I don't want to hear.

I spent many, many recesses alone for a good number of years. And I never felt very bad about it either. I have no recollections of feeling lonely. I loved wandering alone in the playground. I'd occasionally join some random group of friendly classmates, but mostly I kept to myself. Retrospectively, I think I was considered odd.

In fact, in grade five I had two good friends in school, which was a personal best for me. Then they both moved away over the summer. One might think for a normal child, this would cause some stress. To be honest, I can't recall ever having given it any thought as to how this might affect my life. I was bummed I wouldn't see them anymore, but I wasn't really concerned about the impact their absence might have on my school experience.

Grade six actually was the year I somehow joined the popular group of girls, girls who never really had talked to me much before. It just sort of happened and I'm not entirely sure how. I think I just started hanging around, and after awhile I was just a part of things. Looking back I see now there were a few attempts to pick on me, as girls do in sorting out the pecking order. I missed those social cues (I probably wasn't paying attention) and always reemerged back into the fold as if no attempt had been made to exclude me. Sometimes I chose not to spend time with them and would read a book at recess instead. I don't think they knew what to do with me.

By the time grade eight hit, I was making more of an effort to fit in. But I still couldn't stop mentally slamming the door shut on people when my social gauge was full. "Pay ATTENTION!" my friends would implore when I said I didn't know what was going on or what was being said. It probably was pretty exasperating. I'd frequently and randomly pipe up in conversations and ask to be filled in on what was just said. It's actually quite telling of the girls' decency that they didn't wring my neck.

I don't think this is a mental problem or issue of any kind. I think it's just the way I'm made. I'll probably be this way until I die. Actually, I could see myself dying due to me not paying attention in a crucial moment. It's actually why I don't drive. I think my taking involuntary mental breaks would cause mass car pileups. People like me have no business being on the road.

Ah, another long winding 3:00 a.m. entry. There's something to be said for being awake at this hour. It's deliciously quiet.