The Undercover Introvert

Thankful AF

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So, you’re sitting across the table from the aunt who voted for Trump and your nephew who might as well have been marching with a tiki torch down the streets of Charlottesville, wondering just what the hell you have to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. The country’s a dumpster fire of bigotry and ignorance and you can’t seem to escape the suffocating smell of everything you love going up in smoke…

I’m not here to tell you this country isn’t an absolute shit show, because it is. But, if it makes you feel any better, this is nothing new. It’s been a nonstop catastrophe since Columbus sailed the ocean blue and planted a flag in land that wasn’t actually up for grabs. Some of y’all are just now noticing for the first time. Things are getting better, though, slowly but surely as time marches on and more people start paying attention to what’s right in front of them.

This is honestly my favorite time of the year. Always has been. And the end of one year naturally leads to thinking about what the next one will bring. We had some tough election results here in Florida, but we also had some real wins. There’s so much work to do before the next cycle, but I actually feel hope for the future and what we can accomplish if we just get our shit together and keep it that way. So, today, because of the holiday and my enduring love of cliches, I’m going to name a few of the things for which I’m most thankful:

My Family

None of them voted for trump (PRAISE BE) and they’ve supported me throughout my entire life, including the last 2 crazy, action packed years. This campaign/activism life is a wild ride and I intend to keep seeing where it will take me. It’s good to know I have a soft place to fall and people who accept me, no matter what.

Friends Who Have Become Family

Y’all, making new friends as an introvert isn’t easy, but I’ve been waaaaay outside of my comfort zone since November 9th, 2016, and I can honestly say that actually leaving my house has led to meeting some of the hardest working, funniest, and best people around. These are folks I couldn’t imagine not knowing. They’ve enriched my life beyond what I thought possible. I’m honored to know them and to be in this fight together, shoulder to shoulder.

Doing What I Love and Loving What I Do

This sounds cheesy af, but it’s true. For the first time ever, I’m doing work that seems vital. Even when I’m too tired to bitch (admittedly, this is rare), I feel the importance of what I’m doing, and I can’t wait to see what the future holds.

The Victory of Amendment 4

We worked so hard all last year to gather petitions and get this initiative on the ballot. 1.4 million Floridians now have the right to vote back. I’m humbled to have played a small part in dismantling a system of disenfranchisement in the state of Florida that was a remnant of the Jim Crow era. This is game changing. It’s historic. We did this, y’all. All of us, together.

Having the Freedom to Fight for What Matters to Me

Not everyone has this privilege, and I cherish the fact that, though I have certain disadvantages in this country based on skin color and gender, I’m free to voice my opinion, to fight for what I believe in, and to work hard to champion causes that will make this country better for everyone. Those of us able to speak out, to fight, to work hard, need to keep doing it on behalf of those who can’t. That’s our duty, because the freedom to do so comes on the backs of people who risked everything. Honor them with action.

I’m not going to keep y’all, mostly because the smell of turkey roasting is making it hard to concentrate. My guide to living a good life is simple: hug those close to you, cherish those far away, practice selfcare as often as you can, challenge white supremacy, and fuck the patriarchy. This country is becoming a better place every day because of you, because of me, because of all of us. I’m thankful for that too.

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Depression: Let’s Call the Beast by its Name

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I’m not a happy person.

Don’t get me wrong, I can be happy, but the feeling tends to wane more than it waxes. As long as I’m not actively unhappy, I count the day as a win. But there are days that definitely aren’t winners. There are days when it’s hard to find a reason to get out of bed.

As an introvert, I have a rich inner life that doesn’t often mirror the outer one. Before the craziness that was the late fall of 2016, my outer life was whisper quiet. In contrast, my inner life is akin to ordered chaos. And while chaos lends itself to fantastic bursts of creativity, it is also exhausting emotionally and physically.

But here’s the kicker: you would never guess it.

From the outside, I appear to be mild mannered Clark Kent. But, on the inside, I am leaping tall buildings in a single bound and screaming at the top of my lungs.

For me, adulthood has been a mostly bleak landscape interspersed with the occasional soaring peak of exquisite joy. And while I cherish those joyful times immensely, I also wonder why they are so few and far between. I came to the conclusion many years ago that adults aren’t meant to be happy. That we expect otherwise is a childish misconception born of the fairy tales we were force fed as children, complete with smarmy soulmates and happily ever afters. Real life is different, longer, and packed full of humdrum, yawn inducing moments that can still, oddly, be fraught with anxiety.

So, I set a low bar, and settle on the goal of contentment, which I label the absence of active unhappiness. This mostly tolerable state isn’t created out of thin air. I set the conditions in which I can stand to sit comfortably inside of my own head, that loud, tumultuous place where dread so often seeps in through the cracks and crevasses. Contentment is less a state of being and more a destination, reached through hard work and constant diligence.

Exercise helps a great deal. The longer I run, the better I feel, because that anxiety washes away on a river of sweat. But I can easily overdo it if I’m not careful.

Spending time with a handful of the right people can also bolster my weather beaten spirits. But if you add too many people, my spirits tatter at the edges even more rapidly, and I unravel.

Food helps too, momentarily. And why wouldn’t it? Food is delicious.

There are times when I stop short and think:

I am happy, right now, in this moment.

And the feeling disappears like smoke in the wind.

But the residue remains, and I cleave to it on mornings when I can’t find another reason to peel myself from the mattress and face another day. Because there will be more such moments, if only I soldier on. Right?

Why am I even bothering to say all this? Because we should name the beast whenever we see it. Whenever we feel it. Whenever it starts to creep over us, spreading sticky black anxiety…

Depression.

The more we speak its name, the more we know it. This might not loosen its hold, but there’s relief in the telling, isn’t there? And, sometimes, that’s all there is.

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Learning to Say No

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I have absolutely no skill when it comes to saying no. How is it that I never managed to acquire this ability in the last 37 years? Well, this really shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone given the name of the blog, but I’m a functioning introvert. I’ve suffered from low to moderate social anxiety for as long as I can remember. I often have to put a knife to my own throat to go out, even when I’m looking forward to something. Once I get there, I warm up, but I need to recharge afterwards. My ideal evening is spent with my nose in a book or watching something from my Netflix queue. But now I find myself busier than I’ve ever been in my life and I’m struggling.

The political climate of 2016 compelled me to act. I woke up after Election Day in a black, desolate mood. As the days passed, that despair transformed into helplessness, frustration, and finally anger. I needed a way to burn through that fury, to transform it into something meaningful. But how?

I’d never been involved in any political or social activism. So, I joined every group I could find. My typical week went from going out once or twice max to being out every single night of the work week and all day on the weekend. I was organizing, putting events together, making phone calls to strangers (which I absolutely loathe above nearly all else), speaking to crowds, canvassing for the local branch of the Democratic Party, and heading up various local initiatives. Once you become known for showing up and working hard, people tend to call on you to keep doing it, and when there’s so much that needs to be done, you find yourself volunteering and allowing people to set as much as they’d like onto your narrow shoulders. You feel accomplished, but weary. This rush of frenzied activity causes chronic overextension, which exhausts you in a way that even a string of good nights’ sleeps cannot fix.

So, what’s to be done when you want to create as much change as you can but also don’t want to perpetually feel like sinking into bed and pulling the blankets over your head until everyone forgets you exist?

Over the last 12 months, I’ve come to realize that the answer is balance. Don’t accept too many projects and leadership roles. Make a list of priority items and decide how much work you can do without driving yourself insane. Take the recharge time for yourself that you desperately need. Don’t allow anyone to make you feel guilty for saying no.

Have I mastered any of what I’ve just suggested? Oh, hell no. Not even close. But I’m learning as I go, because I’ve never done this before.

During a protest early last year, I saw a sign that read: It’s so bad even introverts are here. I had to laugh at that because it’s true. We’re uncomfortable, but we’re here. Just don’t be surprised if you see us running away from you in a parking lot or something. No offense. We’ve just reached the limit for socializing that day…