Thursday, March 16, 2017

The introvert in me

When I was a little girl, I cried.  A lot.  I grew up in a house full of kids, that were quite a bit older than me.  I was affectionately known as the seven year itch.  My mom once told me they didn't know they wanted me until they had me. Pretty horrific stuff to find out at 12 or 13.  I barely know my oldest brother.  The others pretty much tortured me and called me a rug rat for years.  I slept on the couch for an entire year because my parents didn't want to deal with my sister and I sharing a room - she is 10 years older than me.  (Side note, I have a great relationship with her now).

At 18 cried when my mom slapped me across the face my first day of college.  We got into a fight and she slapped me and left me alone.

I cried when my boyfriend (now husband) broke up with me.

I cried the day I got married.  Happy tears none the less, but still tears.

I cried when our first son was born and then the second.

And I cried when I lost my dad.  And then my father in law.

Fast forward to today and I still cry, a lot.  I try to blame it on menopause, or what is likely the start of menopause, but since I lost my job, I think it's all the rejection.  I can't even tell you how many interviews I've had (actually I could since I have all the records), but I won't because you'll probably want to cry.

For the last ten or so years, I thought I was a pretty strong person.  I was actively involved in my kids schooling and sports lives, and was often at the helm of activity.   I was never afraid to voice my opinion or answer questions of parents who were afraid to go to coaches or teachers.  At work, I excelled.  Tradeshows went off without a hitch, budgets were managed and I got along with just about everyone, even the less than stellar bosses I've been graced with.

In the last six months, I think that it's been stripped away.  I've never had a problem finding a job before, but now it feels like a black cloud is over me.  I ask the right questions, and answer honestly, only to have positions slip through my fingers.  I'm not happy at my temp job,  because I don't feel valued, and often bring that home.  I hate doing that to my family.  My husband has been my rock through all of this, and he's the one that has to deal with me.

I used to think of myself as an extrovert, but truth be told, I'm more comfortable with myself or a few people, than the group's I was often part of.  I'm happiest when I'm curled up with a book, riding my snowmobile with my helmet on, or behind the camera lens.  Let's not even get started on how few pictures there are of me.  Even in high school I was the shy one, often ignored, and likely an outsider.

My inner circle is really my family.  I have a few close friends that frankly I interact more with on social media than in person.  That actually makes me want to cry too.  It's funny how many introverts I've come across of late.

I'm anxiously searching for a new position, and will have to break out of my shell once again and meet new people.  I don't know if that scares me or excites me.  Maybe a little of both. Maybe it's the extrovert in me coming out of my introvert shell.  All I know is I'll probably cry.

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