I called it my Reset Button long before I actually knew how it worked.
It was simple really but seemed so convoluted and illogical that I wasn’t sure how to explain it. I would get into a good rhythm with going to bed on time, sleep well, and then work hard all day long. It felt glorious, but all too soon I’d feel abnormally tired and not be able to function like I should. It befuddled me.
Finally, after a week or so of this happening, I’d throw bedtimes out the window and indulge in a late night reading session. The thing that confused me most is that sometimes the book I was reading wasn’t even all that exciting – or maybe it was a re-read. So, it wasn’t the stellar story itself keeping me up, but I’d feel compelled to keep turning the pages.
Then the next day instead of feeling extra tired like I’d expect, I felt fantastic and was ready to tackle another day. Say what?
It happened fairly often and I began to greatly look forward to the stillness of a sleeping house and dim lights where it seemed like my book and I were the only thing in existence.
Years passed and I simply referred to it as my reset button and moved on with life. Then one day a few months ago I was exhausted – like I could barely keep my eyes open exhausted. I settled in for the night, but then instead of going to sleep like would be the “smart” thing to do, I pulled out a book.
Then I lay there confused. Why? Why was I reading a book on a night like this? My sister had just gotten married and I didn’t really care about the book I held in my hands. I didn’t really care about anything at that moment, I was just bone-tired. But instead of sleeping I was going to read. And read I did, glancing at my phone every once in a while to watch the hours slide by.
Then it hit me.
My reset button worked when I was more people-tired than I was physically tired.
I stayed up late at night reading because sleeping didn’t rejuvenate the introverted-need-to-be-alone side of my personality. And sometimes, no matter how worn out I was physically, my people-fatigue trumped all else and, for me, there’s nothing like being the only one awake for miles around and delighting in the complete stillness of the world around me, to find restoration.
Being an introvert is a gift. Being an extrovert is a gift. Being a human is a gift.
Recently I’ve been working on learning about how to manage the various aspects of my personality that make me, me. I’m learning how to use my introvertedness as a tool to help me become a better person.
And do you know what? Having a reset button helps a huge amount. 😉