“I care about you but I don’t give a shit what you think about me.”
The past week has been an emotional whirlwind. I guess out of naivety more than anything, I ended up testing the idea of being yourself, allowing your vulnerabilities to be seen by others and owning it. Although I learned a lot in the aftermath of being judged online and trying to decipher constructive criticism from veiled superiority, it was definitely not an experience I would like to repeat. I’m able to dismiss abuse and horrible labels, but the cases where semi-intelligible criticisms turn out to primarily serve the ego of the advice giver, these do kind of get to me because it takes being open to vulnerability to sincerely evaluate these messages, only to discover inauthenticity in a more refined state.
Although this poor experience, especially in an online environment, does not represent what may happen in real life interactions, I don’t think further testing is necessary. INTPs are born by nature to be disliked by the greater good, and that is separate from whether we should choose to serve it. It’s down to the way we think, no matter how normal we can learn to act on the outside. It cannot be inauthentic to distance yourself from people in general if that is required to maintain your own well-being. This is a lesson that has taken me a year to figure out for myself. It will take a while yet to become more comfortable with it too.
In Europe, I re-discovered a huge part of myself that has not seen light of day since I was a small kid. It felt like I opened Pandora’s box; if there was an INTP version then Pandora’s box probably contains emotions and feelings. This is not the first time I’ve opened such a box, but boy, I certainly didn’t expect to find a second. In fact, it kind of ruined many of my plans. I half-expected everything I learned in Europe to stay put, but that didn’t happen. On returning home it was a collision of two worlds—mostly peaceful—but I still have to figure out how to sort this mess and clear out what end up classifying as garbage.
A key difference between traveling and normal life is that when traveling you’ll meet and interact with people that you’ll never see again. In a way, the consequences of how you treat these people are irrelevant to you because they’re externalized, whereas at home it’s a small world and your actions may come to affect you and others with observable long-term effects. The idea that you can do whatever you want in another country with people you’ll never see again, that actually makes me feel more safe about expressing kindness, whether or not it is appreciated. Not being around to see the repercussions is good, because I don’t grow attached (and I don’t have the ability to care).
Unfortunately, arriving home, realizing and coming to terms with the fact that I still have friends from the trip—people who I have grown to care about—is rough. When people get to know a certain part of me, I care too much. I’m too emotionally sensitive. And this contrasts greatly with my logical side, which craves a bit more sanity in everyday life. It’s hard for me to maintain a healthy middle ground, and while switching between the two is possible, it’s still chaotic.
Friends are resources that you invest in for long-term benefits. That’s how most people seem to behave, and I should do well to learn that. The whole feelings and attachment thing is counterproductive and just gets in the way. No one feels the same way I do, and no one appreciates it, not even me. It’s a lose-lose thing.
I’ve learned a lot about this week about my state of progress. This new sense of emotional awareness is dangerous. The effort I’ve put into developing my emotional maturity has made a difference, but all the same the things I have to deal with now have escalated beyond my current capabilities. Human interaction affects my mood. My mood affects my emotions and feelings. Strong feelings get overwhelming and distract me from things that matter more. If I can’t process all these feelings, the logical solution is to limit the source, which really comes down to human interaction.
I need to be more selfish. I need to stop caring so much. I need to realize that what people think of me, especially my friends, is irrelevant. People and friends are just resources, nothing more and nothing less. It is extremely difficult for me to adopt such a mantra, and yet I feel like it’s the healthy thing to do.
I care about you but I don’t give a shit what you think about me.
But to really test my theory, over the next week, I will: not initiate contact with friends, abstain from using empathy around people, stop feeling the need to explain myself, and avoid making new acquaintances. The outcome of the experiment does not even matter so much as the distance I’m trying to create and the audacity of continuing to take risks for the benefit of learning, even if it only makes sense to myself.