There was a girl at school who I realise in retrospect was bullying me. One time, she told me I was up my own arse, and I was horrified and outraged and devastated. But recently I’ve decided I’ll take that. I’ll own it. I am, indeed, up my own arse. And I have every intention of staying there.
If an introverted person is an introvert, does that mean that an introspective person is an introspect? Because I am an introspect. I worry that I’m too self-absorbed, that I spend too much time thinking about myself, but I have nothing to judge this by, because I have no idea what it’s like inside other people’s heads. The irony of this, I recognise, is that I could just ask, but is it really possible for a person to honestly quantify just how much time they spend thinking about themself? I suspect not. I certainly haven’t succeeded.
Here is an interesting comment I received on my post ‘Plodding Along’, about my past year with ME:
I do need and want to be more outward looking and interactive. But there is still something about this particular suggestion that makes my toes curl. People are exhausting. And if I ever stop finding people exhausting, I think I’ll have lost part of myself. But the fact remains: I’m getting better from my illness. I’m bored of being stuck at home alone all day. Soon I’ll be ready to get a job and move away from my parents (the mention of whom I have not forgotten, and will address in my next post). And to do that, I’m going to have to interact with a hell of a lot of people.
So here we are. Welcome to my Looking Outwards series (since I figured lots of short posts would be better than one massive one). Again, I’m aware of the irony: I want to look outwards so here is a blog post about what I think about me looking outwards. Although this is already pretty much the me, me, me blog so at least I’m not diverging from my theme. I make no apologies for it. This is what it’s like to be an introspect, looking out.