Christmas Is All Around Us

This weekend’s circumstances have gotten me thinking once again about the defining characteristic of introverts: we draw our strength from time spent alone.

Jeff is away for a few days, and I find myself alone in the house for the first time since we moved in last October. True to the description and my nature, I can feel myself relaxing and strengthening as I go about my day in solitude. As much as I dearly love my boyfriend and think he is perfect for me….I needed this.

Living with another human being can be a tricky thing for an introvert. For me, it’s mostly a matter of too much external stimulus. I have gone seven hours now without interacting with another human being, and it hasn’t once crossed my mind to consider myself lonely. The house has been perfectly quiet, and I move from room to room and back again without having to say a single word or acknowledge anything except the occasional needy cat. This is very calming to me.

I tend to get frustrated about 100 times a day. That’s not a problem for me, because as long as it all stays in my own little world, it’s pretty much easy come easy go. But if I get stressed when my partner is home, it’s like a big mirror, bouncing all that negative energy right back into my face. I stress about trying to hide my stress from my partner, and about how he feels about my stress, and whether it makes him stressed, and if not then why not…and so on.

I’ve gotten frustrated several times this very evening—but nobody cared. And hence, I haven’t felt stressed. I feel great.

I’ve often considered the idea of taking a nice, solitary vacation to some quiet place where I can just be alone and really and truly get away from everything for a few days. A Thoreauvian getaway to recharge like introverts do. Where would I go, and what would I bring and do? I’d always thought it’d be great to rent a cabin somewhere, like Asheville, NC, or just head up to Michigan and camp on the beach for a while. I’d want to be somewhere with other people close by, for safety’s sake and to keep from feeling completely isolated and out of touch. But my own little space would be my own, encroached upon by none other (ideally), and all the time I need without any agenda or second opinions. I’d bring a sketchbook, of course, and a journal, because those are some of my typical means of self-expression. I might leave the camera behind, because capturing images would imply my desire to share my experience with others, and that is not the point of it all. I would consider bringing my laptop, so long as I could completely avoid encountering the internet. And, being a smart young lady, I would certainly bring along my cell phone which does nothing but text and make calls, so that I could keep in touch with those who need to know my whereabouts. But I can’t really think of anything else I would want, aside from a good book in case it rains the whole time. I think that I could do fine for several days with just a pair of walking shoes and some interesting places to wander. It could be city, it could be forest, it could be a country road in the middle of nowhere, but I am sure I could be quite content.

Even so, I am well aware that there is a time and a place for everything, and that things are best when they are experienced in moderation. I crave and appreciate my chances to be alone and gather myself together again, but I have no desire to be lonely. A few years ago I moved into my own house, to live by myself for the first time in my life. I thought it would be perfect peace at last. Instead, I was pretty miserable. Evening after evening of solitude started to get to me. I looked forward to every chance I had to be around other people. All I wanted was a living, breathing, thinking human being to be sitting close by in another room while I went about my daily routines, which seemed so empty and pointless without it. When I drove around, alone, in my car, I would spy passengers in other cars and envy them with all my might. Tearfully, I realized one day that I would rather be in a car with someone else having a heated argument or giving each other the cold shoulder, rather than be canned up like a lonely little sardine in my own.

I’m thankful for the experience I had to live on my own. It has made me realize that I do need companionship, and that the quiet and not so quiet happenings of domesticity and cohabitation are what keep me deeply contented and stable from day to day to day. I need my home and my sweetie every bit as much as I need my time away from them on occasion. As far as I’m concerned, that’s the healthiest way for me to be.

But I’m just a weirdo introvert. 🙂