The Life of an Introvert: When Your House is Suddenly a Social Event 😔‼️

So, there I was. Peacefully chilling at home, embracing the rare moment of doing absolutely nothing because, let’s be real, life has been exhausting. I’ve been so busy that I’m practically running on fumes at this point, so a afternoon of just existing? Yeah, I needed that.

And then—disaster strikes.

One of my three brothers (the one who is a year older than me, aka the one I somehow share the same DNA with but also do not understand at all) casually strolls in and drops a bomb:

“Oh, I’m having friends over tonight.”

…Excuse me?

Sir, this is my sanctuary. This is my safe space. This house is currently at an ideal people-to-square-foot ratio, and you’re about to ruin that. I just blink at him, mentally preparing my escape route because if there is one thing you should know about me, it’s that I do not do people. Like, at all. Not even a little. I am antisocial, introverted, and autistic, which means unexpected social interactions feel like getting thrown into a surprise math test with no calculator.

So obviously, I do what any reasonable introvert would do—I immediately retreat upstairs. I grab my comfort food (today’s weapon of choice: super noodles) and barricade myself in my room, where I belong.

And now, here I am, eating noodles in bed, listening to muffled voices downstairs, and pretending I don’t exist. Occasionally, I hear a burst of laughter or footsteps getting too close to my door, and my fight-or-flight instinct kicks in. What if someone tries to talk to me? What if they knock? What if, god forbid, they need something from my room?

The stress. The horror. The inconvenience.

This is the life of an introvert in a household that refuses to give a 24-hour notice before social invasions. A life of quiet panic, strategic hiding, and an unwavering commitment to avoiding human interaction at all costs.

So if you’re also lying in bed right now, eating your emergency snack and ignoring the existence of the world outside your bedroom door, just know—you’re not alone. We’re in this together. From a very safe distance

Remember your worth,

Summer-Rose H xxx