Confessions of an Introvert

Sometimes, I forget if I've been alone or not. I genuinely can't remember. I begin mistaking times I was with 1 or 2 kids vs 4 as being alone. But my recharge tank is getting dangerously low and I feel guilty and selfish because why would I need more alone time when I just had it? What's wrong with me?? 

Then I look back and finally see it. I'm amazed I mistook a few minutes of quiet for being truly alone. Not just being solo, but having QUALITY alone time. That is the time my battery can recharge, my clock can reset. But it doesn't happen when I'm surrounded by people. And it's something I knew about myself. But I kind of let myself forget how much I needed it to stay sane. And in a family of 6, it is easy to forget about myself or what I really need.

When I was growing up in a city of 6 million people, I used to have a code with my mom when I called to ask to go to a friend's house (sorry, friends. I'm finally coming clean...). She knew by what I was saying or how I said it whether I genuinely wanted to go or if I needed an out. Not because I didn't like that friend(s). But because I was socially exhausted. All the time. I was surrounded by people all the time. From the moment I left my room every morning to whenever I returned to it. And we aren't talking about being alone in a car with other people in their cars around you but there's still a sense of space. I'm talking throngs of Black Friday crowds. But all the time. Everywhere. And then after the wrestle to get to school, to do the whole school thing, the jumble to go out to eat with friends (which I genuinely wanted to do), sometimes the invitation over to a friend's house was the last thing I wanted or needed at the end of the day.

I didn't really know how to read myself at that age, to tap in to see how I was really doing. To try to assess when I needed to recharge. It's hard to remember that time period sometimes because moving to America and all the trauma that unfolded with that kind of overshadows it in my brain.

It took a long, long time to firmly accept that this (being an introvert and all that entails) is the way I was made, not a fault and not a weakness. But it takes some understanding. Even for me, it takes giving myself understanding and a bit of grace to be okay with myself. 

I wonder sometimes if everyone else is battling themselves as much as I am. I'm not very old. But I feel like I've lived several lifetimes. These mental battles feel like wars I've waged unknowingly. Sustaining injuries noone ever sees except for in the forms of irrational anger or irritation or an emotional breakdown. I sometimes forget them myself. It's not until I am in that quiet, alone, that my mind can be laid out and I can assess the damage. Gauge the battery. See new growth in old roots. Marvel at healing over old scars.

It's then that I fully accept myself and feel proud of all I've done. All I've overcome. Even if noone ever sees it.