Long before I knew I was on the Spectrum I knew I was an introvert. I took the Myers-Briggs multiple times and although the results would sometimes vary, the score always started with an I (Introversion); never an E (Extroversion).
I’ve heard some folks question whether Asperger’s is just being an introvert. If someone asked me that, I’d have a hard time keeping a straight face. I’d be hard pressed not to roll on the floor in hysterics. Why? Because there’s a heap more to my living on the Spectrum than my “I”. I sometimes wish introversion was all there was to it but take my word for it, it’s not in my case.
I don’t think being introverted causes me to require wearing an eye mask to bed to block out the light that’s hard on my eyes. I don’t think it has anything to do with needing to turn on some white noise device at night to block out sounds that can put me in a tailspin. It isn’t shyness that’s behind me sitting on a bathroom floor with my hands over my ears trying to block out the sound from another room that’s driving me to tears. My being an introvert doesn’t cause me to overreact to some pet peeve to the point where I feel like a rumbling volcano inside set to blow off.
Not all that long ago I was in a place where a music video came on. The music was a solo being performed by a man who had a loud, strong bass voice. Nothing against his singing, but his bass voice threw me into meltdown country. I retreated as far as I could from it into a corner. Tears rolling down my face. I stimmed by moving my legs back and forth. In my thoughts, I was begging for whoever to finish his song. Once the singing stopped, I went back to where I was sitting. I took some deep breaths. The indescribable pain had vanished as quickly as it had come over me. All was well again until next time.
I admit I am an introvert, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg.