I never really realised until I took the personality test as part of Jenni's blogtember challenge, that I am indeed an introvert. And I am not afraid to admit.
I guess I always thought I was just independent; I have been cooking and doing my own washing since I was about 11 and had my first job at age 17. But actually looking at it, being an introvert and being independent are different, although it seems being independent comes as a result of being an introvert. Or maybe it is vice versa.
I think introverted people are very misunderstood a lot of the time. Usually we shut ourselves off for a reason, mine is an internal defence mechanism, which usually kicks in when I am feeling overwhelmed by life or a specific situation. It is not because I don't care or am not interested. On the contrary, I care a lot, but sometimes I feel like I have had enough of giving to other people and need some me time to reboot. Because in my head if I can't be there for my friends 100%, I need to take a time out.
Over the years I have learnt how to cope alone; not only just living alone but actually being with myself, having me time and not going too crazy with it. Inevitably there comes a time when being a introvert is not good because it transforms into loneliness. The past few weeks feel a little like that.
There is so much to be done, to organise, to pack and to schedule. And while the pooch is wonderful, she isn't very useful when it comes to packing. I am feeling a little overwhelmed and anxious at the thought of an international move and have hidden behind my introverted personality to keep me sane. It has kind of bitten me in the ass and loneliness has reared it's ugly head.
I have to say, I cannot wait to be home in London, with my dad and have an adult conversation. Because the only conversation I currently get at home is with the dog and while she is rather intuitive, her answers are a little lacking.