More Labels? : Day 77 #100daysofwriting



This little gem from Pinterest sums me up pretty well. I've always struggled with the introvert vs extrovert label. I've identified as shy and introverted, while most people experience me as open and extroverted. 

There is a big difference between having the confidence to share a view in a meeting or with close friends. Either I'm on stage or I'm in a place of no judgement. 

Drinking helped with the facade of loud mouth party girl but inside I was dying for attention and affirmation, or chasing oblivion from my emotions. Obviously it didn't work.

Like a little girl showing off I crave attention and affirmation - so maybe that's where the false bravo came in, even when I was little and sober.

I've battled with social anxiety for years, a diagnosis of depression and my recent sobriety do nothing to ease the panic when I'm in a room full of strangers. I don't even know if people realise. I hate small talk and that's probably why I come across as either aloof or way too open.

As I learn to be happy in my open company, I'm a bit afraid that I'm becoming withdrawn. Truth is I'm focussing my attention on things that matter to me. To build deep friendships where very personal conversations are appropriate. Where I don't have to pretend to be anyone else.

So maybe I'm an introvert... leave me alone now.

Exhale : Day 61 #100daysofwriting

I'm nestled in a warm coffee shop, between social engagements. I'm starting to make a habit of these stolen coffee dates with myself. I had one yesterday too.

I'm especially happy that I'm taking the time to write a post now, rather than leaving it till midnight, to shoehorn into my routine while half asleep or half distracted.

I'm like Ernest Hemingway, just sober, writing furiously at a table in the middle of the bustle of human life. I have no idea of that is at all historically accurate but it is how I imagine it.

The warmth is almost uncomfortable as my fingers defrost from their brush with the night air. I'm so sleepy and hazy, even while clasping a latte. Maybe it's the candlelight? Maybe because I'm slowly decompressing.

This week is going to be so busy and it is probably my own fault for falling into so many engagements. But why shouldn't I have late weeknights? I hardly ever go to bed at a decent time. I'm only cutting into my series watching time. I've already prepped food for the next few days of packed lunches and dinners. I have tomorrow morning's veggie juice lined up. All my laundry is done. Why shouldn't I stay in the bustle of humanity a little longer?

xxx