You’ve survived, now it’s time to live (Part 1)


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I’m in love with words. Words and language captivate me. Maybe it isn’t “words” but the fact that words allow for the expression of thoughts. I think a lot, overthink everything and basically live in my head. Without words, my mind will explode.

I was walking towards the gym, my temple, my second home, the only place I erase thoughts, basically the outdoors of some, the escape we all need from the usual and ourselves and from my car to the door I explored many lives. That’s who I am and how I be.

My friend sent me a joke once online. I laughed and then commented. He responded “why do you have to overthink everything? It’s just a joke! You and my wife are the only two people I sent it to. She read it and laughed but you read it and had several thoughts about the underlying issues that she didn’t bring up.”

Because he is one of the sweet notes of my past, I allowed him his rant. I swallowed subsequent thoughts such as “I am not your wife. Maybe she thought them and didn’t say them. Maybe she was busy and cared less. I am the last woman you slept with before you said I do behind my back. That’s who I am. I overthink and you know it. Maybe that’s another reason you married her. Don’t compare me to your wife. Etcetera…” I didn’t. Those were my initial thoughts, with no emotions attached, just plain logic “speak”. The majority of folks tends to attribute emotions to words and I don’t. I’m able to think it, say it but not necessarily feel or ascribe emotions to what I say or hear, think, least to others’ words. A word is an idea, an attribute, the second emotions clog it up, it is more and we miss out on the message, the joy and depth of the idea it puts forth.

I’ve always known I’m one of those thinkers. I overthink everything and most times it is fun. I can create worlds within worlds in my mind. My thoughts keep me going and happy, most times. My thoughts entertain me, laughing quite often at its renderings.

At times, my thoughts consume me, overwhelm and steal my breath, my peace. As the French saying goes: “l’exces en tout nui.” That’s the reason I dislike anything I feel that is negative or that will bring me down. They won’t just be sporadic occurrences, I will carry them with me, for years on. Some folks forget what they say but I remember. As I don’t attach emotion readily to words, placing them first in the laboratory of my mind to play with, it takes me a while to be offended and hurt. Imagine! You make a statement and leave. But I, I take it and mull it over and over and over under different microscopic lights. I live in a world with layers, so I try to understand your statement from your perspective, within the context it was said, why you would say it, and why me yet not another and on and on and on. Once that process is done, usually days later I will then assess how to feel about it. The way I feel about it will be a result of the analysis. Yes! I am strange. So it takes me a while to know whether a statement is an insult, a compliment etc. Some may say I am slow I guess. Functionally within societal context, I really am, which comes across as naïveté that people can’t comprehend in a woman my age.

Once I start pondering how I feel about your statement I will now spend more days analyzing whether I care, why should I care and on and on and on. A conversation with me is basically endless. You may think we are done but in my head it is a long-winded exchange you’re just totally unaware of.

Maybe that’s why I am bold and often come across as harsh. I don’t attribute feelings to words and want to be clear so I won’t send anyone down the maze I go into after an exchange. So I tend to say things like it is, but trust that everything I say have been weighed. I mean what I say, in that moment. Well, unless other possibilities stemming from new pieces of information come under analysis. My words won’t be less meaningless, but amended, within the present context.

As I get older, becoming more aware of who I am, the way I am I have learned to compartmentalize. I am getting better at hearing and not mulling, too much. I must remain sane.

My friend has probably forgotten what he said by now. The same way all the people I have known an family members have forgotten how they used to call me weird, in a way that I am abnormal, that something is wrong with me for not behaving, thinking, talking doing like everyone else they know. I remember though.

In hindsight, the horse’s dung, I feel he expressed displeasure, annoyance to the fact I am not like his wife, that I didn’t behave the way he wanted me to. The fact he said that to me showed how close we are as well, how he trusts me enough to share something he felt though crude I wouldn’t judge him for. He also underlined differences, uniqueness. Yes, I am different. We all are. And we are not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m a glass of Johnny and Henny neat what can I say?

Words move me, hold me, define me, us, everything. I take full responsibility for my words but as for feelings, your feelings or mine, they’re up to us. Do words control feelings? Hardly! Do we control feelings? We should. We really should.

I must say my greatest “ah ha!” moment was having a name for the way I am. Through the years I have taken many of these psych tests for fun but when a friend reached out to me to assist further in my quest for self awareness and knowledge, having a profile, a name for the way I am really centered me. It came at the right time and I was ready to embrace it. I have a name for my disease. I am not alone, rare, extremely rare and different from the rest but not weird, that bad kind of weird, though freeing weird that I enjoy.

I am INTJ!

That’s something isn’t it?

Yeah! I’m not like everyone else. I rather indeed be out of the spotlight, learning, questioning, pondering, seeking knowledge and continue to value connections based on truth and knowledge. Anyone who knows me knows I HATE lies, liars and abhor acquaintance-ship, valuing deep connections instead. I can’t handle touch and go “ships” of any sort.
I know who I am and there’s a name for me mama, I am not weird at all.
“It’s lonely at the top, and being one of the rarest and most strategically capable personality types, INTJs form just two percent of the population, and women of this personality type are especially rare, forming just 0.8% of the world’s population –

A paradox to most observers, INTJs are able to live by glaring contradictions that nonetheless make perfect sense – at least from a purely rational perspective. For example, INTJs are simultaneously the most starry-eyed idealists and the bitterest of cynics, a seemingly impossible conflict.

INTJs are brilliant and confident in bodies of knowledge they have taken the time to understand, but unfortunately the social contract is unlikely to be one of those subjects. White lies and small talk are hard enough as it is for a type that CRAVES TRUTH and DEPTH but INTJs may go so far as to see many social conventions as downright stupid.
Ironically, it is often best for them to remain where they are comfortable – out of the spotlight.”

 

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