Inversion

I am an introvert. 

If you are an introvert too, you may have wondered what it's like to be an extrovert. 

Well I can tell you.  When I was young I briefly took a medication that, as a side effect, turned me into an extrovert.

I suddenly craved the company of other people.  I couldn't stay off the phone.  I had to make plans, meet with other people, find out where they were congregating.  And when I found them, I reveled in their company, their conversation, their companionship. 

I smiled more, and my smile attracted more people to me, causing me to smile even more.  For once in my life I lit up a room. 

These people fascinated me.  I wanted to keep them engaged, keep them with me, both because I was inordinately interested in them and because I feared that if I didn't keep them engaged they'd leave me alone.  Being left alone had been my constant desire.  Now it was my constant fear.

Those who knew me before couldn't believe I was me,  and I wasn't, for the medication did a number on my brain chemistry, transforming me into a new person.  That was just fine with my friends and acquaintances, most of whom preferred the new extroverted me.

Of course, there was a dark side.  There always is.  I lost my concentration and became hyperactive.  These side effects prevented me from pursuing my introverted interests, such as reading, thinking, sitting in solitude and figuring out ways to avoid people, but that didn't bother me at the time, for my extroverted self no longer cared for such things.

What did bother me was my lack of energy.  Being an extrovert is draining, what with the constant talking, socializing, commiserating and caring, the need to be "on," the feeling that you're always performing.  An extrovert exudes energy; an introvert sucks it in and hoards it.  My brain chemistry might've been altered into extroversion, but the rest of my body remained stuck in introversion.  I couldn't keep up with myself.

So when I stopped taking the medication, my worn-out body didn't mourn its passing.  My brain did react badly, however, plunging me deeper into introversion than I'd ever been before.  It may have seemed deeper than it really was for, having just been an extrovert, I was never more acutely aware of my introversion than in the days and weeks after I stopped taking the medication, but I believe it did have some lasting effects, effects I feel to this day.   For instance, I recently looked at some old photographs taken before my brief foray into extroversion.  A few capture me with an open, unaffected, joyous smile, still the smile of an introvert, to be sure, but a smile the likes of which has never been seen on my face again.

On the whole, though, the experience was positive, for it taught me that I'm not cut out to be an extrovert, mentally or physically, saving me years of futile struggles to change who I am.  It also gave me a deeper appreciation for my introversion, helping me to savor those introverted pleasures denied to extroverts, such as reading, thinking, sitting in solitude and figuring out ways to avoid people.

If you are an introvert, and you were offered a pill that would turn you into an extrovert without side effect, other than the normal side effects that go along with being an extrovert, would you take it?  (I'd reverse the question and ask it of the extroverts out there, but I doubt any would willingly take a pill that would turn them into introverts. Why is that?)

UPDATE:  In a  comment below, DarkoV, who also experimented with extroversion, explains why extroversion is so draining: "I felt as if everyone had a piece of me and there wasn't too much left for me.  I found it easier to connect with people, but then felt there was less of me to connect with."  That's exactly how I felt.  I wish I'd written it that way, so I'm doing the next-best thing and reprinting it here.

Comments

[DarkoV]

Mr. OL,
Finally an easy question! I'm quite happy in my introverted skin. Having a few extroverted friends is enough medication for me. When I was pinballing between personalities in high school and college (when I thought you could somehow control/create your personality), trying on the extrovert character was exciting and exhausting. I really missed my Cloak of Invisibility. I know extroverts will disagree, but I felt as if everyone had a piece of me and there wasn't too much left for me. I found it easier to connect with people, but then felt there was less of me to connect with. Perhaps I was just doing a lousy job as an extrovert.
But as far as a magic pill to turn me into ExtrovertMan? Nah, I'd rather wrap myself in sausages and liver and take a swim in the pirranha-infested Amazon.

[puddleglum]

There are some who believe that you can be an extroverted introvert. When I first heard this theroy I scoffed. But upon further reflection I realized that this was me in a nut shell. An extrovert that enjoys the social aspects, but is truly an introvert when it comes to "real" life. So, as with most things, it is never cut and dry.
A pill? I would have to say no. The flavors of life would not be as sweet or as obvious without the bland or spice of various people. Why take all the mountains and valleys that people embody and create a flat stark plain. I love introverts! And while extroverts can be draining on even the best of us, they do provide quite a bit of amusement!

[nadia]

My theory: extroverts wouldn't want to be introverts because their extroversionism helps them make more money in the competative world we all live in.

I'm an introvert and would never want to take an extrovert-pill, because life would be just too boring that way, even with the possibility of earning extra cash.

[Searchie]

A year or so ago, I was given the opportunity to take such a pill. After a bit of introverted reflection, I turned it down and have never regretted my decision.

I may not be happy with *all* the parts of me, but I have finally discovered peace with my introverted self.

[kmsqrd]

I occasionally take the food equivalent of the pill unintentionally (just add copious amounts of sugar) and I feel nuttier than usual. I don't like the out-of-control wackiness that ensues, my friends look at me like I've grown a third head and I live in fear that I'm going to crash mightily in public.

I'll pass on a pill that would intentionally make me that way.

As for why extroverts wouldn't become introverts my best guess is that modern western society values being social to a much greater degree than being thoughtful, so why change what's so valued.

You are all pale, lily-livered, namby-pampy, shoe-gazing, navel-contemplating, weedy no-hopers. Take a leaf out of my book: I shout through a megaphone as loud as I can possibly can about everything I am doing while I am doing it so that everyone in the immediate vicinity knows what's going on with me, and I videotape myself doing it so that anyone who didn't happen to be around at the time can watch it later, because ... because ... I am interesting God dammit!

... however I am far, far too shy to actually sign a comment on a blog.

[khh]

Interesting discussion on introversion versus extraversion. The one thing in my adventures in psychology and therapy is that the energy levels as an introvert and extravert are completely reversed. Reading books, talking politics, watching movies, my energy level is great. Interacting with people: complete opposite after an hour I can just feel my energy start to drain. When some of my extraverted friends try to read books or watch a challenging movie, or even stay quiet, their energies start to wane as well.

I have found that being an introvert in business can work especially in meetings and group outings if I can focus on a specific topic at a time. It's like hunting and I just wait for a spot to cut in and keep in the flow. Of course, pulling out the polite nod and listen works well too.

When I was kid as well, ritalin was recommended for me. Thankfully my parents decided to pass on that. One older brother who was quite extraverted was enough for them.

[Waterfall]

I've taken that pill. Several versions of it. Some made me happy and outgoing, which was fun for a while. It gave me a bit of a glimpse into what goes on in those weird social beings' minds. But it was tiring, and not me. The things I love doing require that I have lots and lots of solitude--reading, writing, composing, thinking, etc. When I was more outgoing and "extraverted," I found that my writing, my music, my reading, etc., fell further and further down on my priority list.

Time would also fly a lot faster (in a bad way), and I'd be left thinking, "Where did the last month of my life go? When did it pass by?" I like the slower, more focused, more intense world that my introverted personality allows me.

When I read "Please Understand Me" by David Kiersey, I realized for the first time that it's "OK" to be an introvert ... argh, I'm starting to sound therapeutic, aren't I ... :-)

Yes, I would take an extraversion pill, but only for those times that I feel I need to socialize (I really hate to socialize). I wouldn't want to take one that would make me extraverted all the time, though.

Wait, I do take an as-needed pill ... sort of. If, that is, red wine be considered a pill ...

[ogic]

But what do you make of introverts who become bloggers? I'm such a one, and a lot of the time it feels just...unnatural. From time to time, it will suddenly set all my self-exposure alarms screaming, and I have to take a minute. (It can, however, make *actual* socializing easier, giving me a fairly rich topic for conversation at parties.) Does it ever feel like a contradiction to you, OL?