I'm Not Actually an Extrovert
I really bite myself in the butt sometimes.
That's a metaphor. It means I voluntarily (but unwisely) do things that eventually hurt me.
In this case, it means I persist in chattering inanely to everyone around me--classmates, professors, cashiers, people waiting in line, people in the same elevator. It's like I have no social boundaries. I'd probably address the President the exact same way I talk to the janitor in the hallway.
This means that I know a lot of people and a lot of people know me. And that same lot of people persist in contacting me, and talking to me. And because I've been trained not to ignore people, I chatter back, and I keep chattering because I don't know how to stop.
And I exhaust myself.
It's stupid. I'm not learning anything useful. I don't feel a personal connection with all these people, beyond the basic "this is a human being, therefore interesting and valuable." But every day I go out and I chatter away, and at the end of the day I'm ready to collapse, because no matter how much I wish I could just ignore the rest of the world, it doesn't ignore me. And once someone has dangled a "How are you?" in front of me, I take the bait, hook, line, and sinker.
That's a metaphor that means that if you say "How are you?" to me, expecting a "Fine, how are you," you're likely to get my life story instead. Sometimes literally my life story. And no, it doesn't matter if you're a perfect stranger.
I wish I could stop this. I wish I could just ignore people, be as aloof and oblivious as you're supposed to be if you're autistic--as I was, when I was younger. It's tiring and it's pointless and yet I do it anyway. And it's not like I can hold a great big sign that says, "Don't talk to me! I don't have any energy to spare!" People would have no idea why. And they'd ask me if I was okay. And then I'd give them my life story or the equivalent.
When the world trains automatic social responses in an introvert who can't switch tracks away from social contact any more than she can switch tracks away from anything else, the result tends to be one very tired introvert.
Ah, the temptation to just lock your door and stay away from the rest of the world...
That's a metaphor. It means I voluntarily (but unwisely) do things that eventually hurt me.
In this case, it means I persist in chattering inanely to everyone around me--classmates, professors, cashiers, people waiting in line, people in the same elevator. It's like I have no social boundaries. I'd probably address the President the exact same way I talk to the janitor in the hallway.
This means that I know a lot of people and a lot of people know me. And that same lot of people persist in contacting me, and talking to me. And because I've been trained not to ignore people, I chatter back, and I keep chattering because I don't know how to stop.
And I exhaust myself.
It's stupid. I'm not learning anything useful. I don't feel a personal connection with all these people, beyond the basic "this is a human being, therefore interesting and valuable." But every day I go out and I chatter away, and at the end of the day I'm ready to collapse, because no matter how much I wish I could just ignore the rest of the world, it doesn't ignore me. And once someone has dangled a "How are you?" in front of me, I take the bait, hook, line, and sinker.
That's a metaphor that means that if you say "How are you?" to me, expecting a "Fine, how are you," you're likely to get my life story instead. Sometimes literally my life story. And no, it doesn't matter if you're a perfect stranger.
I wish I could stop this. I wish I could just ignore people, be as aloof and oblivious as you're supposed to be if you're autistic--as I was, when I was younger. It's tiring and it's pointless and yet I do it anyway. And it's not like I can hold a great big sign that says, "Don't talk to me! I don't have any energy to spare!" People would have no idea why. And they'd ask me if I was okay. And then I'd give them my life story or the equivalent.
When the world trains automatic social responses in an introvert who can't switch tracks away from social contact any more than she can switch tracks away from anything else, the result tends to be one very tired introvert.
Ah, the temptation to just lock your door and stay away from the rest of the world...