#introversion

#introversion

Have you ever felt like your brain was one of those viral egg experiments, cracked open and sizzling on a bare sidewalk that was truly, much too hot? You may have been experiencing signs of burnout (and dehydration). As an introverted professional, I've been there as well, many times in my career. Over the years, I've developed healthy reflective coping methods to recharge my batteries and prevent (or at least combat) that intense feeling of overwhelm.

This summer has been a season jam-packed with a rapid succession of family reunions, road trips to visit far-flung loved ones, and hosting what a friend impishly refers to as "house pests." As a non-parent introvert, I'm saturated. The extended immersion in family gatherings involves everyone else's children. Doesn't matter if the kids are absent or in attendance. They're still omnipresent, mentioned frequently as a main topic of conversation.

I'm an introvert. Actually, I'm one of those extroverted introverts. Once I force myself to get out there and talk with people, I really enjoy it. But the thought of it beforehand can be overwhelming. I also consider myself a creative person. I do a lot of wondering and mulling and some occasional stewing and brewing and dwelling. It's solitary and sometimes lonely up there inside my head.

I've embarked on a five-year mission to become more outgoing, figuring out which situations I could be comfortable in, and setting myself exercises in social etiquette.

The 'Lost Child' loves by remaining committed to not burdening the parents, often resulting in their needs being overlooked and leading to mental health issues.

Most of my lifelong friendships have been with those who share a common characteristic, be it intellectual interests or values, demonstrating the importance of connection in friendship.