the second two commandments of the anxious extrovert

i've burnt out

Here’s the sequel to part I! Boy, have I learned about extroversion since.

Jesus, I’m embarrassed. I write to you today still at maximal power to produce writing, because that is what energizes me and makes me alive.

But some of the other things that I thought energized me came from a very ungrounded place. A place of erotic charge, where I wanted to prove to myself that I can have friends and social connections.

Now, I’m unnumbed, and I’m a little horrified at what I’ve created. See, I have a lot of social connections, but now I feel out of control. I feel like I could fill a mansion with all of the people I love, dearly, but I cannot possibly honor every single person I connect with. And holy fuck, the worst part? There are DEFINITELY some people I’m closer to — no, let’s not say closer to, as if I’m speaking “objectively,” like it just happened that way. These are people I flat out LIKE more. People I don’t have to explain myself to as much. Jake, Jack, Tram, Yatharth, Mari, Michelle, Rey — but everyone else? Gahhhhhh, I’m a Jenga tower right now that’s about to completely keel over because I just noticed the bricks at the bottom are wobbly as fuck.

I’ve uncovered that the second commandment of the anxious extrovert is:

Thou shalt not conveniently forget that there are consequences to your extroversion in which everyone in your life ends up noticing you but your nervous system may collapse when you notice yourself

This sounds like a first world problem, but I have lived in denial for so long that it’s like light has been shone into my blind eyes for the first time and okay it’s blinding me so hard it’s completely fucked up my nervous system.

I remember when I was younger and beginning to get my social bearings, the time where I spoke less because I felt scared.

Now I speak too much at times because I’m afraid if I stop talking, no one will want to know what is in my head. If I don’t talk, what if no one wants to listen? If I don’t make myself interesting, can I “prove” to anyone that I’m worth loving? If I explain myself, is that the only way to break the silence that I’m afraid is a reflection of who I am?

Can I actually power my way through and outrun scarcity?

What if I didn’t try to go with the “abundance agenda” and “infinite growth” approach to prove to myself I deserve to exist, that I belong in society, that I won’t be naturally selected out if I am anyone but me?

After I got messages after my last extrovert post from shocked introverts who had no idea that this could be an insecurity, I sat down to really process my extroversion.

I also made the mistake of scheduling so, so many hangouts in California that I overdosed on energy. I’ve prob hung out and been around hundreds of people in the last month en masse. If you factor in New York of the last 5 months, I’m scared that number may skyrocket to 500+.

I have a limit of social energy, and I’ve hit it. I talked to so many people, and I’ve had so much inspiration to being deeply in love with who they are in life, that I forgot how to understand how deeply people can love me.

Would you still love me if I shut the fuck up? If I needed to?

What if, if I’m less extroverted, people will stop wanting to be around me and I won’t be taking advantage of the life I’m living in a city I love and milking the fuck out of it?This is definitely just a trauma response to seclusion as a grief-ridden childhood of being neurodivergent, yet nevertheless here we are.

This morning, I sat at Mari’s table and sobbed, but in a choked up way. Because I realize that for a lot of my life, I couldn’t just be, somatically myself. I couldn’t be, safe. And just be, there.

I let it hit me that wow, people love me and I finally see it, but also, fuck, I’m more of a people pleaser than I thought.

And the person I’ve been trying to please the most, is me. The me who can’t let myself relax for a second.

---

If I have to go into recluse mode, I don’t want people to stop loving me.

I don’t want people to stop admiring me.

I don’t want people to think I’m boring, or lame.

I don’t want people to feel sorry for and not respect me.

I’m afraid that if I cancel hangouts, implicit promises to connect with others, that I will lose the magic I worked decades for. What if I lost my voice, my zest? What if it all went away? Who would walk out first? Who would stop loving me first?

If I stopped being the persona of who I am, and was just a sad tired sack, would I still have family?

Extroversion for me is also guilt - like what if I stop maximizing, what if i stopped? what if I didn’t try to connect w everyone?

Who would I be then?

There’s this fiery part of me that inspires the world and has burned a path through the weeds. She wants to do all the things.

The other earth part of me wants to grow my roots again, for they are not nearly as deep as they could be. This will entail sacrifices.

I’m terrified, but I’m also aware that the time is now to ground again and remember who I am, really.

The problem is that because a lot of good conversations I have with people entail me understanding who I am more greatly {for that is my priority}, I was able to mask this to myself for a while.

But my dream is to just do everyday, banal shit, and be excited about it because of whom I’m with. To not speak for a while so I can marinate. I can’t consume any more exciting information about the world now.

Truth be told, that is only a few people.

Initially getting praise for my extroversion made me realize I had permission to not be. Like, I was unconsciously milking my extroversion as some sort of loser’s mentality and sadness.

Now, I’ve hit a peak of feeling like, I really need to honor that permission and test it out.

---

Here are the other commandments that I was going to write about:

Thou shalt take time to prioritize what rly matters

Thou shalt not view extroversion as chasing or as caring more

Thou shalt not take one self for granted

Thou shalt not internalize expectations to always be on

Elaine @laine_writes

used to think it was an introvert thing, but now i’m convinced that when you feel drained after a social event it’s bc you weren’t comfortable being yourself w the ppl you were with. it’s super energy-consuming to suppress a part of you or be anyone other than yourself.

For my marketing jobs, I HAVE to network. I HAVE to meet people frequently. I underestimated that the leftover energy I have must belong to me, and I also have to stop trying to spread my seed in ways that, if I’m honest, I know won’t benefit me.

Because I’m suffocating, and it’s happening in real time.

---

I have a vision of my future self, and what she looks like is externally what I’m doing now, but way more grounded. I have a vision of a time where I won’t binge eat social interaction as if I can’t believe it’s real.

Over the last few years, I think I lived with my eyes half shut, wanting to go through the motions of being really nice and amicable just to prove to myself I could do the motion. It was like “practice” for reality.

I have rarely thought deeply about what others think of me in an embodied way.

That feels different now. And now that I can see it, now that I can feel the energies of a thousand different people who’ve thought of me in the last few months, I’m terrified of how incapable I feel of honoring it.

It’s time to be real and take some time.

The second commandment that matters for the anxious extrovert is to simply remember:

Thou shalt slow the fuck down to prioritize what matters.