I'm feeling a little hermetic today, probably partly because it's a big American holiday and I should be feeling the exact opposite. I was invited to two different parties but my stress level has been climbing over the past few weeks and it makes me want to hide my head in the sand. Stress + Expected Social Behavior = Hermit
I recently read that book "Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking" if you've heard of it. While reading the first few pages I felt like the author had somehow gotten a glimpse inside my head, which in any other circumstance would have freaked me out. In this case it was comforting. She was pretty much describing in detail the whole way in which I relate to the outside world. After a few chapters it started to make me see how I could possibly see myself in a different light...or at the very least, stop criticizing myself so much for feeling the way I do. Much of the book was sort of common sense, but she did make me take a second look at the way I process things and that in itself was incredibly worth it.
The first thing that struck me was her separation of the shy introvert from the sensitive introvert. I guess at times I can be a little shy but I wouldn't really consider myself a shy person. It never made total sense to me to call myself an introvert because I equated it with being shy and unable to make friends. Instead I went straight to "I guess i'm just off then. Maybe overly moody. Definitely different." But sensitive? How many times have I said that on this blog alone? She talks about how exhausting it is for introverts to be social and the only way to recharge is to spend quiet time alone. (Conversely it the exact opposite for extroverts which sort of blows my mind.) I always thought there was something weird about the fact that I needed alone time. She goes on to say that it is of course not black and white, no one is totally one or the other. We have traits of both that come into play at various times in our lives, depending on our circumstances and experiences, and there is nothing stopping anyone from becoming (or faking) the one they feel they are not. But ultimately we are born with tendencies toward one and you can see it as soon as a child begins to socialize.
Despite being somewhat if not totally aware of my introverted tendencies I used to get so angry at myself for not wanting to go to parties. It was this weird sort of self-acceptance while fighting against it at the same time. Admittedly I still scold myself for not being more social which ultimately just leads to getting depressed, but lately I've been able to take a step back and not scold so harshly. (Not sure why I was only able to do that after reading it written by a stranger but not after my best friend told me repeatedly to stop it.) I suppose ultimately it's a gain on the self-acceptance ladder and I have to thank her for that.
I used to think I used to be a happy person. Perhaps I was when I was very small and unaware that the world outside my house existed. But once I was exposed I think the happiness was replaced with concern for others which inevitably lead to being hurt. Not that I was a sad, loner kid, I was actually a pretty happy kid, but over time I think the introversion solidified. Unnoticeably maybe because my mom was always one for 'go play in your room'. She only had to tell me once because I loved playing alone in my room- it's only now when I see my friends' kids that I realize not all kids are like that. Most of them need constant attention and entertainment. I provided that all for myself. My mom kept all my school records and I read through them recently. From 1st to around 5th grade various teachers commented on how I treated the other kids as well as the teachers themselves with care. It shouldn't surprise me I know that in the end my constant awareness of others' feelings became my downfall, but it's fascinating to discover I did not learn that behavior, I was born with it. I'm pretty sure neither of my brothers gave a damn how other people felt at that age and we all grew up in the same house.
To paraphrase the book, unhappy people see setbacks as something that ruined a good thing while progressive people see them as something that made them stronger. I have experienced both of those ways of thought concerning my friendship with Jean. On the one hand I think, that was such a painful experience I will never be the same. My whole world has darkened and I'm not as nice as I used to be. On the other hand I think, that was such a painful experience I am much stronger for it and it has made me into who I am today. Luckily now I don't focus too much on that part of my past. I still wonder sometimes how I'd be different if I had been stronger with her, or even better had never met her at all, but I can't help feel that because it happened (along with all the other shitty treatment I've received from various people- I can't give her sole credit) I'm way more introverted than I ever was. Then I fight with myself about whether it's ok or unacceptable to be that way.
I've also come to realize that at this point, right now, I'm either overwrought (emotionally) or under-stimulated (intellectually) and I think that's why I'm ALWAYS exhausted. I look forward to the weekend so much because it means I'll have time to do the things I love and I find all I can do is sleep or veg in front of the tv because I'm tired. It takes everything I've got to do laundry or go food shopping and then I just get angry at myself all over again because it's like, well then DO something, stop complaining.
So I currently find myself selling my apartment, moving to a new town, preparing to go to grad school (I was accepted!), deciding on whether to take a staff job doing what I love but at the very same time being bored out of my mind, all of which is taking too long to happen so my brain is literally on fire. Some days it's great and it propels me forward, other days all I want to do is hide in a dark cave. A friend of friend said, "you are remarkably calm! i would be so stressed out." when she found out all I was up to these last few months. I was like, you should see the inside my head. I'm screaming at the top of my lungs and running in circles, it's quite the show. Apparently though I have decent composure, so there's that.
I was talking with another friend about depression. She said, do you think there will be an end to it when you find someone? She said she used to suffer from depression stemming from poor self-confidence/image and always expected it would go away when she met someone. It has gotten better since she met her partner but of course it has not disappeared. Being with someone pretty much means dealing with your problems plus someone else's problems.
I am a-ok with that.
I said rationally speaking of course I don't believe my depression will stop when I meet someone (when I sat down and thought about it, it's been happening since I hit puberty so I'm pretty sure it's at least partly in the chemistry) but I can't help feeling like no matter how awful I feel, at least I'll have someone to share in my life. I know what alone feels like. I know what lonely feels like. There's a part of me, probably the overblown romantic part, that whole heartedly believes that just having someone there will make it just a little bit easier. It may be a false belief, I'm not completely naive I know life is just as hard with someone as without, but it's one I need I think to keep going. And anyway, how would this have become famous if not partly true?
I need to find a new apartment as I have accepted an offer on my place. I'm alternately thrilled and terrified. (Seems to be a familiar feeling whenever I try to change anything). I've been out to the new town I want to live in to just drove around a few times, and I started to think I'd convinced myself I loved the place so it would be easier to move. It's as congested and busy as where I am now just with more suburban houses and greenery. Unless I move to farmland in west Jersey it's inescapable. I'm suddenly questioning whether I should move when I know I need to...as if I could make the wrong decision...as if there's a right and wrong here.
I still incessantly wonder what it would be like to shut off. The only moment of peace I get is that split second before I fall asleep - after falling asleep I'm dreaming or hallucinating (they've started again albeit a very light version at the moment) or waking up because my brain is on fire again thinking about all the what ifs. I'd love to sleep for a week.
I guess I'm writing all this cuz it's easier for me to communicate this way, another trait verified in the book along with over analysis and a rich creative sense. However I've all but stopped writing lately which is bad. Something else in the book is making me think about how to motivate myself back into writing. She says remember what you wanted to be when you were a child, the core of that dream likely remains true.
After a few years of convincing myself I was going to be an acrobat, I realized I wanted to be a writer. Up through the later years of college I held on to that belief. Granted I ultimately found a different creative outlet that I really do enjoy, I still used to write stories in my head constantly. Over the years even that has subsided and it makes me sad. My world view has changed for the darker. Being an adult really sucks sometimes. I used to be so appreciative of the world around me, I just have to find a way to get back to that...and to find humor again beneath all the negativity. If you can believe it I used to be known for having the biggest, loudest laugh. There is nothing I enjoy more than a real life story about something mundane that makes me giggle. I am a big fan of David Sedaris and aspire to one day have a book like his about my own silly adventures. My friends used to love getting emails from me about my random little experiences.
So I find myself repeating my attempt at a positive mantra: I will try. I hope being back in an academic setting will force me to have some discipline.
Happy fourth. :)
