A Letter From a Depressed Introvert
Read this to know you are not alone.
Hello, my dear Substack readers. I hope you are having a great summer. I woke up today with this short message on my heart that I felt I needed to share with you. I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
“A Letter From a Depressed Introvert”
To whom it may concern:
You may not know this, but I am an extreme introvert. I love being at home for days at a time, weeks even. I enjoy sitting on the couch narrowly eyeballing my favorite TV show while I watch my beautiful children laugh and play. I enjoy getting my meals and groceries delivered to my home when I’m too lazy or depressed to go to the store. I love not having anywhere to be. I love sitting on the couch typing on my unorganized laptop in my pajamas that are cloaked in baby food and formula while my daughter snores next to me.
I love sitting next to my partner in silence with one hand on his leg while we both scroll away on our phones. I enjoy cleaning my home every day until my sore feet demand me to rest. I enjoy seeing my daughter and I’s hair rest in the natural form of a curly, wild, black afro, as we have nowhere to be. I enjoy sitting on the sidelines away from people at my son’s basketball game, silently cheering him on. I enjoy my video games with my mic turned off. I enjoy having my phone on DND or my message notifications turned off entirely. I’m just an introvert.
You may find this type of “slow living” boring or weird, but I absolutely crave it. I love it. The silence helps me. It’s not that I hate everyone; I’ve just learned to find the peace in my silence, being alone, or being with family. I hope if you are looking for me and can’t find me that you never take things personally. Don’t think it’s your fault or that you did something wrong. I just enjoy my time differently now that I am getting older.
I hate being overwhelmed by big crowds. I hate feeling like I’m not prepared enough to go out. I hate feeling like I don’t look my best. I hate feeling like I can’t manage my time. I hate being places that remind me of the hard times I’ve been through. I hate doing things that make me think too hard about my mother while I’m still grieving. I hate being places that trigger me and make me want to break my sobriety.
As I deal with my depression, some days are harder than others. Some days I want to socialize, but many days I enjoy being home with my immediate family—my tribe. The ones who understand me and appreciate me for who I am—a depressed introvert.
Thank you so much for reading. Please feel free to leave a comment and let me know your thoughts.
This was another addition to the “Sparkle on Substack: 24 Essays Club” created by
. If you would like to join and challenge yourself or just check out her work, just click her name tagged above.
As an extremely introspective introvert, your preferred experience sounds rather heavenly to me.