Introversion

I avoided writing this one for a couple weeks because I didn't know how to approach it without getting too personal, but in the end I decided maybe that is what is necessary.

   A few years ago I was talking with a friend of mine about introverts and extroverts. It was going well until I casually said that I was an extrovert. My friend's head snapped around and he quickly shut that idea down.

"You? Are you serious? You're at least 60% introverted." Then he continued with the conversation. I spoke with him, but in the back of my head there was a nagging question.

"AM I introverted?"

Over time, I decided to look into it, and the results opened my eyes to a lot of things.

First, the nature of introverts is not so easily defined. I saw the word, analysed 'intro', thought about 'inner' as it applied to emotion, and came to the hasty conclusion that introverts are people who internalise everything and are uncomfortable in their interactions with other people. This was why I was hesitant to self label because I know a fair amount of people, and I would not think that this would be the case were I to be an introvert.

This common assumption is completely wrong. I have been doing a lot of research in the past year, and one common thread ran through the articles I read like this interesting one...introverts are not scared of interaction, or terrible at empathy or any of those traits. They - though I suppose I should say we - are just not fond of continual external stimulation. My words for "sometimes I just need to be alone." This is not because I am depressed or sad or angry or unstable or moody - this is just how I am. I find it easy to be socially saturated and need time to process by myself. The more I read, the more the hair stood up on the back of my neck as I saw myself, depicted over and over again in these psychological surveys and reports.

     So introverts exist. What is their place in this society?

Well, as the old Batman show would say, things don't look good for our heroes. The extrovert is in almost every way the archetype for what regular society deems "a normal individual", and the one on the outside usually looked at askance, with judgements flying left and right. Again, though, this automatically rules out the introvert as a contributing member of society. This then leads to assumptions that we are shy. Not so. In her book that you can look up here Susan Cain makes this point:

Shyness is the fear of social disapproval or humiliation, while introversion is a preference for environments that are not overstimulating. Shyness is inherently painful; introversion is not.

The problem is, in the school system, there is no time for introverts to play catch up. Schools are run on very tight schedules, and introverts that process things alone much better are forced into environments that have twenty, thirty, forty screamers all around them for at least six hours a day. Extroverts thrive, introverts can struggle in this uncomfortable environment. Then throw in the inherent meanness of children and you have someone who is not doing well and teased about it, boom, cycle. I'm not saying this always happens. I am saying that given the personality types it is easy to see it happening.
    Over time, I grew out of my fear of being an introvert, because I realised that it was not a bad thing. This was not me being some kind of freak, but rather a specific personality trait. Nothing was wrong with me. Now how to express to my friends that sometimes I would rather not have their company? Tricky, very tricky. It has never come up, and I would like to think my social deftness is the reason, but it is inevitable. When that time comes, I hope this quote applies.
 We can only dream that someday, when our condition is more widely understood, when perhaps an Introverts' Rights movement has blossomed and borne fruit, it will not be impolite to say "I'm an introvert. You are a wonderful person and I like you. But now please shush." - Jonathan Rauch.

I wrote the following some years ago in some frustration, and it is eye opening to look upon my own works and understand myself through them. Figure I can just tack it on the end here and no one will complain.

The Party

The room is dark, and occasionally smoke drifts by
Teasing his nose, tugging on his senses
Before drifting off, a flirting ghost
As he stands in the corner, feet leaden
Drink clutched forgotten in his humbled fingers
As he returns a smile from his friend, avoiding any further eye contact
As she gazes, confused, at the shy man-child next to the speaker
As his friends party their lives away, he holds his in humiliated fingers
And wishes he could give flight to his soul
Watch it twist and dance, a freed albatross
over the sea of society, following whichever friendly ship 
Gives him permission to land
And yet, his friends murmur, confused
As yet another night is wasted, stationary
He has been here before
In this pit of anxiety and ridiculous embarrassment
Resisting the throbbing drums that try to nudge him out to the floor
And the slightly concerned and exasperated female advances
An interesting tableau, altogether...
The angel, in the air, falling to earth
Rather than use his wings....