Confessions of an Insecure Introvert

I’m almost certain I’m repeating myself as I write this post, but something in me screams to say these things again…and so I will. I think it will be pretty therapeutic for me to talk it out, too, which is always good.

Plus…who knows? This might help someone else, too.

I’m a serious introvert. I thrive on time by myself; this does, sometimes, go to extremes and get me into trouble. Most of the time, though, I’m happiest by myself or – if I do have to face social situations – in a very small group. There have been lots of times in the past when it has been next to impossible for me to leave the safety of my solitude; anxiety has made it very, very hard for me to get the interactions and relationships that everyone needs. More recently, though, I’ve been fighting another battle. Recently, the battle I’ve faced has not been prior to social situations, as has always been the case for me; rather, my struggle has come after the social interactions are over and I’m back in the safety of my car or bed or elsewhere in my little world.

It is at those times that my mind runs crazy. It is at those times that my mind is against me in every possible way. It is at those times that I wish more than anything that I could just shut my mind off and enjoy my new friendships and move on with my day like everyone else does.

But instead, it is at those times that I replay everything I said and did and thought when I was in the group. I berate myself for the awkward things I did and the strange things I said. I deride myself for not being more comfortable and relaxed and at ease. I chasten myself for not being like everyone else, and I eventually convince myself that I would be better off not venturing out again.

Those thoughts scare me.

Those thoughts are terrifying, because one little thought like that too easily grows into a full-fledged mindset. A mindset like that becomes crippling, and can nearly kill me. I know the power a mindset like that has. That is nothing new to me.

And so I press on. The next time an invitation for a play date or women’s group or community group gathering makes its way in my direction, I will go. Getting there isn’t difficult. I will even have a good time; enjoying myself isn’t the problem. Once I am back in my car, though, the happy face will disintegrate and the positive thoughts will disappear. I’ll see everything wrong with myself and will come face to face with the things I like least about myself. It will happen.

I don’t know what I hope to achieve by “coming out” about this. Some of it is probably selfish, hoping for healing for myself and maybe a little understanding from those of you who know me in real life. I think I also hope to encourage someone out there who feels the same way. There might be someone among you, sweet readers, who thinks she is the only one who has this harmful, self-defeating habit; if I can provide comfort by reassuring you that you’re not alone, I’ll be happy. And for those who can’t relate to this at all, please just know that no matter how someone might look on the outside – no matter how happy and smiley they might be when you’re together – there might be a very different story once you part ways. You never can tell.