Conditioned Introversion

This is a simple expression of something in my own life... nothing particularly relatable.

My life story. It's so fleshed out with insignificant facts, as anyone's is. If I were to summarize the most important details of it, however, this "poem" very well describes it.

I was a child. A small, innocent child.

Quite extroverted, I seemed to be.

I loved people. I trusted them. I spoke with them regularly and put myself out unto the world without fear.

My brother was born. So close in age.

We got older and he slowly became a monster. Verbal abuse. The kind in which I was scared to tell how I felt without being scolded. The kind in which if I revealed too much, I was exploited.

Years.

Depression. Hatred for humans.

People would hear, but never listened.

Social conditioning. Distrust. Disdain.

I'm silent now. I walk the streets without eye contact with anyone. I walk alone. No one knows me. I wear a mask hiding who I truly am. No one knows the real me.

I haven't expressed myself, unless anonymously, in so long, I don't remember what comfort in other humans feels like.

Nature. The only thing I can truly confide in. Being outside. Experiencing the beauty of the world. It's not the flowers, the trees, the sky, or any other petty sensation that puts me at ease, but the realization that I'm here. Back in a primitive state. Away from people. To myself, in my own thoughts.

And I'm now comfortable being the introvert I've been conditioned to be.