Apologies for Being Severely Introverted

To all the people whom I’ve offended:

This is not intended to be a fauxpology.

Here is how things are with me: I’m very introverted. Just by my own nature, and how I was raised in enforced isolation by my parents, how my parents utterly betrayed my trust in them, and how I’ve been treated in the past by people I’ve trusted with a life-threatening situation. There’s even more details on this blog. There’s more details I’ve forgotten to tag properly, and even more I’m not telling y’all.

But I understand entirely that my stand-offishness at times is quite rude, breaking the implicit social contract of society online and where I live and where I work. It’s hard for me to overcome this habit and distrust, and I understand if you take offense at this. I do not blame you for my past, but my demeanor makes it seem so.

Intention has no meaning to others; they can’t see inside your head. They can only trust that you communicate with your heart on your sleeve, and even then, it’s not enough. Actions are what matter.

And through my foolishness, my stubbornness, my arrogance, I can’t yet bring myself to not be this way.

I’m sorry if my actions have hurt you. And I know this is my fault; none of the above are excuses, merely explanations. Whether I intended hurt or not, I still committed it. I deserve neither kindness nor forgiveness for how I am. I wish I could kill myself at times for being so, because I feel that’s the only adequate restitution that can ever be made for offenses I cannot help but commit. And even so, perhaps it’s never enough.

Still, I’m gormless, witless, a bitch and a thief of restful mindedness, for I will continue to blog, and tweet, despite the fact that I’m slow at forming connections with everybody, and may not even do so for most. I’ve been told my reasons for making certain connections are fueled by selfishness—a desire for comfort or fame, being clingy or being starry-eyed. And I can’t deny it; these are indeed my motivations. Even connections I make through wanting to help are merely selfishness in disguise. I am truly a disgusting ass.

I’d call myself worse, but I’m trying to train myself out of such things in general. (Although I still use the word “fuck”, so I’m a hypocrite on top of that, and a hypocrite in ways other than word usage.)

No words here are meant in sarcasm; no words here are meant to be self-defense; these words are only so that something inexplicable to you is explained. If there is comfort to be had here, I hope I’ve expressed enough so that it exists; if none is to be found, it is my fault for a lack of communication, an inability to bridge the gap, and a lack of desire to do so in large part.

You have my word that this apology will not be taken down. I don’t care if you took down yours, because apologies are not meant to be conditional. They’re meant to exist, freely given, with no demands, not even for forgiveness. To do so is to, I know, break a social contract, and I’ve done enough of that.

For anyone else: if you’re also introverted to this extent, or moreso, these words don’t necessarily apply to you. I wrote them because they apply to me.

And I must admit selfish intent: I wrote this apology and am posting it for all to see and judge because it makes me feel better.


10 thoughts on “Apologies for Being Severely Introverted

  1. I have to go repair a door latch, so will state as absolutes things that perhaps aren’t:

    Introversion is not a failing, nor is it a character flaw, nor is it somehow “less than” extroversion.

    That person you wanted to cease conversing with on twitter? Who got snotty about it? That person is a jerk.

    You (and I and indeed everyone) get to set the bounds of our interactions with the rest of the world. You really do get to do that. Conversation, communication, works so much better when everyone knows their own bounds.

    There. I am done being absolutist. :)

    • *hugs* You have excellent points.

      I can’t help but think they must’ve been hurt and thus acted jerkily. They apologized first, then took it back and told me to shove off. I don’t even.

      But I feel awful anyways. :( Logic, I am not good at it.

  2. Amen to pericat.

    Introversion is simply night to extroversion’s day. Without one, there is no identifying the other. It’s not right nor wrong, good nor bad. It simply is. And to hell with anyone who thinks being introverted is a failing of any kind. I’ll be all assume-y (having no real idea of what’s going on on Twitter) and say this: Clearly they are not introverted and have no idea how difficult it is to expend energy just to be in groups of people.

    Anyone who drags you down, makes you feel like less of a person or worse, is not a person who adds value and light to your life and thus, should be summarily booted from your life, apologies bedamned and without remorse. Life is too short to waste on poison.

    • I think they truly don’t know what it is to be introverted. They definitely knew the definition, and kept asking me about it, only to finally have me ask them to stop asking. And then, I suppose, it got weird. (But it’s a mild weirdness, rather than, say, stalker weirdness.)

      *hugs* Thank you for being a good friend.

  3. You don’t owe anyone anything. Everyone seeks human contact on terms that make them feel comfortable. Because of your experiences, your terms are likely different than most, but they still deserve respect. Does that make you selfish? No more selfish than anyone else. It’s like saying “I can’t eat peanuts because I’m allergic, but I need food to live.” and someone telling you that wanting to go to a nut-less restaurant is selfish because OTHER people can eat whatever they want.

    It’s nothing to apologize for. At all.

    • Excellent analogy. I totally grok it, mostly due to my food allergies. (Not nuts, but gluten and dairy are more than enough for me, sigh.)

      *hugs* Thank you for commenting. Also, one day I will have to figure out GoodReads a bit better.

  4. I can’t spend as much time responding as this deserves either, but you’re not the bad person you’ve been told you are.

    First-year students of philosophy discover that everyone hopes to benefit from most of what they do; it’s how humans are. Before the end of the first semester, they learn that that’s not a bad thing. You’re supposed to do good things for people, right? Well, you are part of ‘people’. You as much as anyone else deserve comfort and company and stars in your eyes. And if we didn’t do anything that was even partly selfish, we’d do almost nothing ever: think of all the great projects to build bridges and water-treatment plants and stuff where the builders were among the people who benefitted: those projects were still Good Things.

    • You as much as anyone else deserve comfort and company and stars in your eyes.

      Heh. Tears in my eyes. *hugs* Thank you.

  5. As I read this I so wished I could manifest a cuddly cow and a pot of lovely white tea and the softest sounds of the ocean going out. All around you, but very gradually, so as not to startle.

    Agreeing with the kind thoughts well expressed by earlier responders.

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