I was reminded of this negative aspect of introversion on Friday. We spent more than six hours at church, first in the regular three-hour service and then enjoying (and partly orchestrating) a congregational Christmas party. It was very festive and I certainly enjoyed myself, but by the time we got home I just wanted to be in a dark, quiet room by myself so I could recuperate from all the interaction that can be so draining for introverts.
But guess what? Sweet Miriam and Magdalena felt no such fatigue and wanted to carry the fun and energy of the Christmas party over into our precious Friday afternoon. It was one of those times when I longed for a Grandma or Grandpa or passel of cousins to take over and absorb the energy that was crippling my introvert self.
I've noticed that in such situations, my body copes by shutting down emotional response. It's almost as if I unconsciously decide that if I can mute the input that is overloading me, I can pretend I'm recharging in a dark, quiet room by myself when in reality I'm playing My Little Ponies on the living room floor with two little girls. It's a way of coping, I guess, but I don't think it's healthy. Sometimes it gets to the point where if one of the kids trips and falls and hurts her knee (or whatever) when I am in that mode, I can see her crying and know that I should feel empathy or concern at that moment but it's all I can do to mimic the appropriate words and reaction. I'm just too drained to drag up the genuine emotional response, and to do so would destroy the recharge period that my body is trying so desperately to approximate.
Now, it's possible that this post really weirded out some of you, especially if you're an extrovert. It's OK, I don't expect you to understand. Just know that once I DO get to spend time alone in a dark, quiet room (aka, when I go to sleep at night), I am fresh, recharged, and things go back to normal and I bet I could even talk myself into spending six hours at church again...