Can An Introvert Safely Share A Room ? Part 1

People are hard to deal with. That’s a fact that everyone realizes at some point in their lives. Although we’re similar in many fundamental ways, our humanity generates an infinite number of manners in which we differentiate ourselves from the person next to us. This is usually a great thing because life would be real boring if everyone behaved in the same ways. On the other hand, it takes a crap ton of energy to deal with people who don’t see things the way you do. I’m usually nice but, at the end of the day, I need a space where I could talk to myself out loud. I need a place where I can be without being wrapped up in what the world requires me to be.

I am an introvert in every sense of the word. I function best when I can focus my energy on reflection and contemplation. I enjoy solo activities that avoid the “world gaze”; reading in my room, watching a show on Netflix, reorganizing my room. Social situations are fun but draining when I have to confront them by myself. Talking to strangers feels like hanging my journal notes on a billboard in Time square; risky and uncalled for. Age has made me more comfortable with social interaction but I’ve realized that I’ve fooled myself into thinking I could be the social being that everyone expects me to be.

I thought I could be normal. I thought that I wanted change; that by forcing myself outside of my comfort zone I would suddenly overcome my desire to be alone. After bypassing every opportunity to live in a single dorm for college, I accepted a roommate and moved to a new city to live with a new person. What could go wrong ? Not everything, but a lot has.






Confronting Myself

I have a love-hate relationship with writing. I loved doing it when I was younger and didn’t care so much about people’s judgement about what I had to say. It was something I was proud to know how to do and it made me feel special. Not a lot of people around me had the time or energy to pick up a pen and write about their feelings and experiences. But in the process of growing up, I found myself becoming those people. Not just because I lacked time and mental energy, but because I became afraid of my own thoughts.

Being afraid of your own feelings is a lonely experience. You stop trusting yourself because you’re less sure about what you want and what you have to say. I would beat my wandering mind back into a cage of thoughts centered around hating school and running track. I stopped thinking about things that went beyond what was physically in my face. I stopped trying to understand myself and this world. I don’t want to be like that anymore.

As much as I loved and still love writing, I’ve become scared and fearful about what it will reveal about myself and who I’ve become. It makes me feel vulnerable to put feelings into a physical space where other people have the chance to find it. But I believe in its power to rehabilitate my mind and my ability to process the world in a deep and meaningful way.

I made this blog to work through my thoughts, feelings, and experiences. I wanted a place to talk about the things that matter to me. These things could be my favorite ice cream, why I don’t cry, or the many different ways I can trust people. So look around, don’t judge too hard, and enjoy !