I had a bit of an epiphany tonight whilst driving home. It is a well-known fact that I would much rather listen than talk, but if I have something to share, I generally don’t not share (unless I can’t find an in, which I find is more often the case than not). The exception is talking about myself. I hate talking about myself and will avoid it at all costs.
This is not because I find it upsetting to talk about certain things. I do not actually get upset about talking about myself. I do, however, get upset over the fact that I cry almost every single time I talk about myself. Again, I am not upset or emotional about the things I am discussing. But talking about myself has made me cry for as long as I can remember. Members of my family will attest to this. As early as grade school I can remember crying and not knowing why, but knowing that I wasn’t upset, I was just crying.
It wasn’t until tonight that I realized why, exactly, I must be crying. I read recently that introverts have higher levels of cortical arousal than extroverts. In short, they get over stimulated. It occurs to me that while the act of talking to a group may be stressful to me, and my body certainly reacts to it (90% of my social situations are spent shivering, even if I’m not cold, simply because of that extra energy in my body), the doubled stress of talking about myself is simply too overwhelming for my body to cope with.
I cry when I’m over tired because my body doesn’t know what else to do. That stress must sort of flash-tire my body, which in turn makes me cry. That’s my theory, anyway. I could be totally way off base with this.
But it certainly explains why I spent seven of eight pages of my senior reading crying in front of a room full of people (which actually prompted one of my professors to write a poem about me, which is sort of awkward, actually). I still, to this day, do not quite understand how I actually finished reading my essay. Or how I managed to get the words out while my brain was thinking “You could just run and never look back, and no one would probably ever say anything.” But I think that means we can pretty much with absolute certainty say that “Become author with a book tour” will never grace my bucket list.
(PS: I can tell this is a serious post when WordPress isn’t condemning me for any of my made up words. It does, however, take umbrage with me saying “don’t not” which was entirely intentional.)