HongDou
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- Joined
- Nov 23, 2012
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- MBTI Type
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- 6w7
- Instinctual Variant
- so/sx
This is moreso a recount of my own personal experience, and I wonder if this will come across coherently, as it came to me during a restless night trying to sleep while coming down from an acid trip lol. However, I think this may touch on a part of the experience of extraversion that could be compelling to reflect on, given how extraverts are usually painted stereotypically as happier and more well-adjusted than introverts.
First, I have to say that I naturally carry a lot with me and I work incredibly hard. I think it's fair of me to say I work harder than a lot of people, and the amount I work is an unfair amount that I do not think anyone should have to take on. I essentially work three different jobs - I work full time as a Medicaid liaison for a certain nonprofit organization, but I also attend graduate school pursuing my masters degree in mental health counseling. In this program I also work as a therapist to accrue hours in order to graduate, but these hours are unpaid as it is only allowed to qualify as an unpaid internship. Every day I am juggling the responsibilities of my 9-5 job alongside schoolwork and therapist work.
When I first started taking on this workload I had a handle on it, but things gradually changed over time. My classes got more intense, and I entered a beautiful relationship with my partner that (while profoundly supportive) required a lot of work from both of us as we continued to deepen our life together. It was a lot to juggle, and my work was never fully at its best in every facet of my life. Eventually, when I applied to the postgraduate fellowship position at my internship site, I was rejected. It was never fully explained to me why, but I have a lingering feeling that it was due to a failing within my own self to be fully transparent of my imperfections and flaws. While I am usually a kinder person to myself, the conditions of my work and having so many people to report to created a survival routine in my mind to constantly try to mask where I am struggling. But, even as I try to the best of my ability to seem okay, I'm sure there's always a certain energy communicated to the world that I am not actually okay.
This is where my recent thoughts come in. During my trip, I visualized myself as a robotic insect carrying weighted sustenance for my colony. More and more weight keeps getting added, and eventually my tiny limbs begin to break and it is evident that this one little ant is not performing to the best of its capacity because of how much it is being demanded to carry. The question then becomes, how can this unit be recuperated and rejuvenated so that it can functional at its optimal performance again? Of course one answer is to allow it to carry less, but in this specific case there's not many options around that.
Like how extraversion and introversion delineate where we draw our energy from, this little bug in my story is programmed uniquely programmed from others in the colony. In my case, energy is drawn from the outside world. This is not reflective of any discomfort being alone - I have worked to become comfortable and secure with myself. But togetherness - spending time with loved ones, friends, and chosen family - is what heals and recharges my battery, whether it be out dancing or inside watching a movie. This is a conundrum though, because this adds even more weight to carry to my plate. With time alone I might have more time to center myself and work harder on all these responsibilities I carry, but unfortunately time alone is not as restorative for me.
Following this narrative, I can't help but wonder if this is something that extraverts might commonly struggle with. While introverts might struggle with isolation, feeling outcasted, being drained from social gatherings, and other various experiences, I wonder if a darker side of extraversion that we experience has to do with these themes of overextension, burnout, and carrying too much out of necessity.
First, I have to say that I naturally carry a lot with me and I work incredibly hard. I think it's fair of me to say I work harder than a lot of people, and the amount I work is an unfair amount that I do not think anyone should have to take on. I essentially work three different jobs - I work full time as a Medicaid liaison for a certain nonprofit organization, but I also attend graduate school pursuing my masters degree in mental health counseling. In this program I also work as a therapist to accrue hours in order to graduate, but these hours are unpaid as it is only allowed to qualify as an unpaid internship. Every day I am juggling the responsibilities of my 9-5 job alongside schoolwork and therapist work.
When I first started taking on this workload I had a handle on it, but things gradually changed over time. My classes got more intense, and I entered a beautiful relationship with my partner that (while profoundly supportive) required a lot of work from both of us as we continued to deepen our life together. It was a lot to juggle, and my work was never fully at its best in every facet of my life. Eventually, when I applied to the postgraduate fellowship position at my internship site, I was rejected. It was never fully explained to me why, but I have a lingering feeling that it was due to a failing within my own self to be fully transparent of my imperfections and flaws. While I am usually a kinder person to myself, the conditions of my work and having so many people to report to created a survival routine in my mind to constantly try to mask where I am struggling. But, even as I try to the best of my ability to seem okay, I'm sure there's always a certain energy communicated to the world that I am not actually okay.
This is where my recent thoughts come in. During my trip, I visualized myself as a robotic insect carrying weighted sustenance for my colony. More and more weight keeps getting added, and eventually my tiny limbs begin to break and it is evident that this one little ant is not performing to the best of its capacity because of how much it is being demanded to carry. The question then becomes, how can this unit be recuperated and rejuvenated so that it can functional at its optimal performance again? Of course one answer is to allow it to carry less, but in this specific case there's not many options around that.
Like how extraversion and introversion delineate where we draw our energy from, this little bug in my story is programmed uniquely programmed from others in the colony. In my case, energy is drawn from the outside world. This is not reflective of any discomfort being alone - I have worked to become comfortable and secure with myself. But togetherness - spending time with loved ones, friends, and chosen family - is what heals and recharges my battery, whether it be out dancing or inside watching a movie. This is a conundrum though, because this adds even more weight to carry to my plate. With time alone I might have more time to center myself and work harder on all these responsibilities I carry, but unfortunately time alone is not as restorative for me.
Following this narrative, I can't help but wonder if this is something that extraverts might commonly struggle with. While introverts might struggle with isolation, feeling outcasted, being drained from social gatherings, and other various experiences, I wonder if a darker side of extraversion that we experience has to do with these themes of overextension, burnout, and carrying too much out of necessity.