It has become clear that my discovery and acknowledgement of, and my attempts to cope with, my introversion have been less than efficacious in determining a comfortable place on the planet. I had thought that, once I came to terms with this character positioning and others understood why I behaved the way I do, that all would be right in my world.
To be honest, nothing has really changed. Naming something doesn’t always give control. As it is, I am becoming more and more isolated. By allowing myself guiltless moments alone has somehow signaled that I completely disdain social interaction.
Despite occasional awkwardness, I do invite folks into my space….but I am never invited back; let me emphasize NEVER. I have hosted social gatherings in the neighborhood, yet I have not been invited into anyone’s home. There have been an informal dinner, here and there, but no return invitation. If it were not for family and would spend every holiday alone. If I spend time with anyone, it is always with my initiative.
I am trying valiantly to maintain a semblance of healthy sense of worth, but it is difficult when it seems I have become a pariah. I am no longer young and pretty. I am not of great means. I am, essentially, all I have to offer. Apparently, that is not enough. There are times I am thankful my time on this planet is drawing to a close.