A Fundamental Personality Shift: Going Inside of Myself

Recently, someone asked about the little introvert inside of me.  When I say little, I mean, miniscule.  Anyone who knows me knows that I am a strong extrovert.  Most people think being an extrovert means only that I like being around a lot of people, whereas an introvert is someone who is happier being alone.  However, anyone who has ever studied introverts and extroverts knows that there is so much more depth to these types of people.

So, what is it about me that makes me an extrovert?  Well, it’s true that I thrive on contact with other people.  It doesn’t have to be a large group of people, maybe just one or two others, but I find that contact with others recharges my battery.  Being around people isn’t the only method of recharging that I have. 

When I first moved to this area, my mother came for a visit.  Before leaving to return home, she and I had a conversation where she questioned whether I would be happy living in such a semi-rural area.  She was concerned that I would get itchy feet and want to move elsewhere.  When you consider that moving had been such a part of my life for twenty years, it wasn’t necessarily and unfounded concern.  When you combine it with the fact that I am such a strong extrovert, it became a very real concern.

Several years ago, I went to Washington, DC, for a weekend after living in a very rural setting for the past two years.  It was a warm March weekend, and after arriving at my hotel, I headed to the Lincoln Memorial, which was about two miles away.  Instead of taking the Metro, I opted to enjoy the sunshine and walk.  As I walked along, I felt my heart lighten and my energy increase.  My speed began to increase, and my spine began to straighten.  By the time I reached the monument, I felt re-energized.  After a weekend in a city, with the lights and sounds of car horns, sirens, and people, I came to realize that I needed these short weekends away to recharge.  I needed not just the crowds, but the sounds, the lights, and the energy that I find in larger cities.

When I came home, I knew that I needed to make periodic trips to a city and that I needed to find a job where I was active.  I found the job, working in retail loss prevention (there are plenty of stories I can tell about this one, and I am sure that I will write about some of the more entertaining stories in the future.).  It was there that I met my dear friend John, who is ironically very much of an introvert.  Little did I know then how we needed each other to balance the other out.  The job helped to feed the part of me that needed external energy to recharge. 

This past year and a half, I, like much of the nation, have been confined to home because of the Covid pandemic.  I moved my work to our home.  It was difficult being so isolated from people and external energy.  My husband and I lived in a house at the end of a dirt road, where the only contact with the outside world was when the mail carrier or the UPS delivery man made a delivery to the house.  We found a beautiful new home on an actual street, in actual neighborhood, and moved a few months into the pandemic.  I can see neighbors mowing their yards, sitting outside with their children, and coming and going.  I can see cars traveling up and down the street throughout the day.  Now that my extrovert is fed daily, the introvert sometimes lets me know that she is still in there.

On my “introvert days,” I find that I don’t want to see people and I don’t want to talk to people.  I’m okay, just needing a little alone time to take care of that part of my soul that needs rest from all of the external energy.  I often spend these days either curled up inside with the Pugs or sitting outside on my back deck, depending on the weather.  I like to be alone sometimes.  I enjoy feeling as though I have, for a few short hours, no responsibility to anyone or anything.  I find some peace in these times. 

Since Grubby’s suicide in February, these days have become more frequent.  Sometimes, I need them to rest.  Sometimes, I need them to grieve.  Sometimes, I just can’t be bothered to do much of anything.  I never know when I am going to have one of these days.  There’s no rhyme or reason as to when they come, but when they do, I stop, and I listen to my soul.  This is hard to explain to the average person.  It’s been almost nine months since Grubby died, and some people think I should be over it, that I should be normal again.  But what is normal now?  My normal has forever changed.  My life has been divided into two parts: before February 24^th and after February 24^th.  The person I was before February 24^th died that day along with my husband, and a new person – a changed version of me – was born in her place.  This new person seeks contentment being alone more frequently than the old me. 

When I speak of giving myself grace, I mean accepting my new self just as she is.  I mean allowing myself to be different, to need those days and to take them when I need them.  I mean, allowing myself to be still and feel…  Sometimes, I cry. Sometimes, I rage.  And sometimes, I just remember all the good days that we had.  Always, I miss not only Grubby, but that old me.