The thing to know about a person who is introverted and antisocial is some of us ‘fake’ our daily existence to get by. The smile. The ‘how are you?’. The ‘How was your weekend?’. All pre-programmed triggers to make others think you give a damn.
It’s like at Walmart or any other retailer. We’re trained to ask the customer ‘How can I help you?’. Do we REALLY want to help you? There are some who are genuinely interested in helping that customer find that right blouse or cake mix. The rest of us would rather get through the day without talking to the scum.
We’re doing it because we have to.
The thing with me is, after a full day of ‘how can I help’, yes ma’am this and yes sir that … when I come home, the last thing I want around me is another human being. Wife, son, daughter … No ONE.
The argument can be had that I never want anyone around me but that’s not true. I actually love spending time with my wife and my children.
It’s actually a sensory overload for me that I’m willing to compress for eight hours of the day. After that, at home, shut the fuck up. Leave me the fuck alone.
I know. It’s terrible. In the past, I didn’t quite understand that feeling. Why I was so much hateful when family and friends tried to reach out. I recognize it now and it’s my DNA make up. Typically, I can’t stand crowds and gatherings. But for a pay check, I can suck it up for a few hours.
At home, the family may not understand that and want to bond, talk about their day, complain about something, need help with something.
The need to keep a reserve of ‘give-a-damn’ is important after giving a damn at work all day.
Maybe I can figure out how to package ‘give-a-damn’ so I can pop a pill or two when I get home to continue smiling and caring for another hour.
In some cultures, I think it’s called ‘Cocaine’.
Suddenly, I miss my adderall.
myJournal 