An introvert's night out.

"If you don't want to go I'll tell them we can't make it."

That's just it, though. I never want to go.

Bob had called me to say that some friends wanted to meet us in town at one of our favorite little places to have some drinks and hear a band. And while to most people this sounds really reasonable and fun, to me just the invitation sends me reeling. So the excuses just start flowing. That's too late. What about dinner. I'll have to leave Riley. We're going somewhere tomorrow. I'll have to change clothes. It'll be too crowded. I'm having a bad hair day. I don't want to run into anyone. It's too cold out. It's too hot out. It's windy. (Yes, it gets that ridiculous.)

The man is used to it by now, and mostly he understands my anxiety and respects my deep introversion. And here he was, ready and willing to let me off the hook. But this time it felt like I really needed to say yes to this. It was something he really wanted to do, and people we really needed to see. 

"I never want to go," I told him, "but when I do I almost always have fun." 

And that is the truth. And, like I predicted, we went, I relaxed, I talked to our friends, and had fun.

But I did have some requests that I made in order to keep from being a freaked out mess, and Bob was kind enough to go along with them. My first wish was to go to dinner, just us, before meeting our friends. That gave me time to ease into the evening, versus sitting at home just watching the clock and waiting to leave, OR being asked to go from solitary confinement to extreme extroverting in one move. Second was to set a leave time. This gave me some structure so I knew that the get-together was going to have a go-apart. (Funny enough, I have been the one to blow past that time stamp depending on how much fun I am actually having.)

I think some of this aversion to gatherings was exacerbated by COVID, but the truth is, as an introvert, it's always been there. I have been called "anti-social," and I fear that my fellow introverts may have also been given that label incorrectly. People who suffer from anti-social personality disorder have no regard for humans and tend to manipulate and mistreat people and experience zero remorse for their behavior. I suppose an introvert could also be that, but that is not what I am. I have often said, "I love humans, it's people I can't stand." Which is of course, a bit cheeky, but it just means that being around people for a length of time is draining to me, so I have to have a lot of down time to regroup and reenergize. 

I am not "fixed" by one go-out with friends, I'm still me. But it was an excellent reminder that I can really not want to go, and say it out loud, but then actually go, and be fine. 

Fellow introverts, unite. Quietly. And individually.