My first photographic effort, circa a long time ago…
To relax, sometimes K indulges in the guilty pleasure of browsing Bored Panda. This week, she came across something that piqued her interest: Rejection-Sensitivity Disorder. It’s funny that a lot of the signs are, well, traits of being an introvert. Maybe the only differentiation is in the use of the word extreme, as in it can cause ‘extreme emotional sensitivity and pain triggered by a perception that a person has been rejected or criticized by people they care about.’
Reading through the Twitter feed explaining the disorder, the part that caught my attention was this:
Your interest in it (a thing you enjoy doing) drops like a stone, you don’t want to be a part (of it) anymore. You want to go home, by yourself and hide.
Yep, that’s definitely introversion. It makes me think of a time I was, I think, thirteen. Our family was on a weeklong holiday from Saint Louis to visit Washington DC. We stopped at all the historic sights along the way, including Gettysburg. Driving through the park, me riding front and center in our six-seater Buick, a cannon along the side of the road caught my eye. I was a little too timid to speak up immediately. I waited a bit before asking if we could pull over so I could take a photo. Once stopped, I walked what seemed a long way thirty-or-so years ago now, but in reality, likely wasn’t much more than a quarter of a mile. I found the particular cannon I had spotted, framed it with my little Kodak point-and-shoot, and etched the image onto some color film.
Then walked back to the car, proud of the photograph I had taken, enjoying the moment.
When I reached the car, everyone had spilled out of it and was clearly exasperated. I don’t remember what was said, and I’d likely embellish it to save face at this point. I do vividly recall climbing back into the front seat, squeezing over to the center, and fuming. I muttered (or more loudly than I’m remembering) under my breath how I just wanted to go home, by myself, and be with our new cat. I didn’t want to be in that stupid Buick, or with my grumpy family.
I’m definitely introverted. I’m not sure I’d diagnose myself with Rejection-Sensitivity Disorder, but the similarities are striking. If you're also introverted, or even if you're not, you may find it interesting.
