Quiet is medicine

Photo by Jessica Favaro on Unsplash

I almost didn’t write one of these this weekend. I am worn out. Depleted. I’ve got nothing left in the tank. I’ve not answered messages, replied to voicemails, and there are what’s app groups with whole conversations in them I haven’t looked at yet and can’t face to do so. How come? You might ask. Well, it’s simple, I’ve spent too much time with lots of people, being ‘on’ (socially) and no time at all at home alone, being quiet.

I only discovered how introverted I was when I stopped drinking at age thirty-six. Until then, I fully believed that I - gregarious party girl, always last to bed - was ‘naturally’ extroverted and got my energy from being around others. It was something I valued about myself, and that was valued by the people I was around at the time. Quiet was definitely NOT something I aspired to. Quiet was boring.

When I got sober, I realised with some shock that my extroversion wasn’t ’natural’ at all, and that I used alcohol to make me that way. I poured wine over my social discomfort and washed it away. It turns out I actually get my energy (particularly of the creative variety) from being alone. I am a quiet person. Who knew.

This realisation led to having to unlearn a lot of ingrained behaviour. In my late thirties and early forties I became notorious for cancelling plans. I would still say yes to back to back social arrangements, lunches, dinners, concerts and then cancel them all at the last minute, having become overwhelmed, making up all manner of excuses. I didn’t know where my limits were and it was usually once I’d gone over them that I realised (my favourite recovery phrase is still ‘I recognise balance when I swing past it). I still said ‘yes’ to everything as the person I used to be, not accounting for the person I now am.

At the time I associated this with being sober, and the discomfort of being in social situations without my best friend/anaesthetic/ social lubricant, but as time has gone on I’ve recognised that the truth is I can get so ‘peopled out’ that I can hardly think straight, which is how I feel this weekend.

It’s taken me a very long time to learn to just say no and be honest about it as I still have all sorts of guilt associated with my need for time alone. It feels very self-indulgent, or even anti-social. But for me, it’s also necessary to my functioning like a ‘normal’ human being. I’ve had to re-learn this all over again since becoming a published author. Finding the balance between promotional work/connecting with readers/ still seeing friends and my need for quiet has been been a challenge, but I’m getting there.

Yesterday I literally took a vow of silence. I spoke to no other person, and mostly stayed away from the myriad ways we are in a constant ‘on’ position via smartphones. I can feel my whole body responding in gratitude, my mind clearing, and my mood lifting. I’ve been able to write this (incoherent though it may be). Another day of quiet, reconnection with myself and I will be ready to face the world once more.