I'm okay, you're okay... if you're on fire, and somewhere else other than near me.

The Atlantic had a piece in 2003 on the proper care and feeding of your introvert, but it misses a pretty important point: it assumes that an introvert will necessarily have an extrovert "keeper."

Do you know someone who needs hours alone every day? Who loves quiet conversations about feelings or ideas, and can give a dynamite presentation to a big audience, but seems awkward in groups and maladroit at small talk? Who has to be dragged to parties and then needs the rest of the day to recuperate? Who growls or scowls or grunts or winces when accosted with pleasantries by people who are just trying to be nice?

If so, do you tell this person he is "too serious," or ask if he is okay? Regard him as aloof, arrogant, rude? Redouble your efforts to draw him out?

If you answered yes to these questions, chances are that you have an introvert on your hands—and that you aren't caring for him properly.

We won't, at least not the smart ones of us, choose to live with, or if allowed the option, anywhere near an extrovert.  This is because of the three most iportant parts of our personality:

1. People are tiring (and most of the time, not worth the cost of a bullet)
2. I need to be alone, but will want someone with whom to share snide comments about extroverts.
3. People are tiring (and most of the time, not worth the cost of a bullet)

 This makes most of us choose the reasonable option and surround ourselves with about 80% introverts.  We use the remaining 20%-ers to help us find more introverts.

"You should totally meet Joe*, he glares at people almost as much as you do. His wife hasn't said more than 5 words to me in the fourteen years I've known her."

We think alike.

The Atlantic continues with:

Extroverts are energized by people, and wilt or fade when alone. They often seem bored by themselves, in both senses of the expression. Leave an extrovert alone for two minutes and he will reach for his cell phone.

 There's a term I like to use for people like this: "Simple minded."  I used to use the term retarded, but apparently the retards don't want to be associated with the extroversion.  I can sympathize.

In contrast, after an hour or two of being socially "on," we introverts need to turn off and recharge. My own formula is roughly two hours alone for every hour of socializing.

 I don't need quite that much recharging, but then again, I spend my day making life harder for the outgoing personalities I'm surrounded by, and the enticing mixture of their fury and my hate recharge my batteries.

This isn't antisocial.

Well, for me it is.  My general rule is "please go away and die horribly." 

It isn't a sign of depression.

Someone please tell this to the mental health "professionals" who work here. I'm getting tired of rebutting heads with them. (get it? it's a joke!)

It does not call for medication.

Unless that medication is single malt and at least 12 years old.

For introverts, to be alone with our thoughts is as restorative as sleeping, as nourishing as eating.

They should have said "as nourishing as HEALTHY eating."  Extroverts are the morbidly obese diabetics of conversation, and talking with them is like all you can eat mcdonalds: the content is terrible, tasteless, and bad for you, but god-damn if there isn't a lot of it.




He's got a lot to say...



Our motto: "I'm okay, you're okay—in small doses."

I don't believe that there is an official motto of the congenitally un-social, but I've outlined mine in the title of this post.