Quiet please, I’m an introvert.

As I’ve written previously (https://www.amjcounselling.com/amj-blog/being-an-introvert), I’m an introvert.

I not only really like, but really need, time on my own; quiet time; time to recover when I have been around people and noise and activity. This doesn’t completely define me - or feel like an issue or problem for me - far from it - but understanding this important part of me really helps as I navigate the world.

This week, I faced an interesting challenge.

I attended The Open (golf championship) at Royal Liverpool, Hoylake, on Wednesday and Thursday. Me and 260,000 others over the course of the week. One estimate suggested that 84,000+ people were there on Wednesday for the final practice round. Regardless of the exact numbers, I can confirm that it was busy; noisy (yes even the golf is noisy); at times crowded; and, at other times more than a little overwhelming. The last time The Open was held in these parts six years ago - literally a few roads away from where I live in Birkdale, Southport - I attended all eight days of practice and tournament play.

I did not have the same understanding of my introversion, myself, or my needs as I do now. It was a brilliant week in 2017 but hugely draining. Something I didn’t really understand. Why would I be so drained and feel down and spent after having such a good time? Why did I find it all too much? How would I cope this week across the water?

The answer: it was a mixed bag.

It is clear that attending such an event means that one has to accept that there will be crowds and busyness. That’s a given. As guarenteed as Patrick Reed being disliked by large swathes of the crowd, or hearing regular shouts of “Come on Tommy lad” for the local-ish hero, Tommy Fleetwood. But finding it too much to handle and spoiling the experience is not a given. It takes some thought and some planning. I tried hard to do this thinking over the last few days.

Some positives. I limited my time at the event with a cut-off time so that I didn’t reach a tipping point - which I reached before when at events, or parties, or dinners, or frankly anywhere that requires me to interact with others or noise and activity - when I want to run for the hills (and have) in the past. This helped. Not just in limiting my exposure to the challenging experience of people and noise - but also in giving me a structure to my day and something to remind myself when I started to feel anxious or the rising of the feeling of being overwhelmed - “only 90 minutes until I head for the station”.

Mentioning the station reminds me that I took the train - this also helped, but was a mixed blessing. It allowed me to take my book and read and use my headphones (thank you Bose for my new noise-cancelling headphones which are game-changers) for music and podcasts - but also meant I had to share my personal space with a lot of people. Not just a lot of people, but a lot of people who made a lot of noise and talked - looking for a polite phrase, but struggling - a lot of shite. I love golf and share a kinship with golfers and golf fans but, like so many sports fans, there are a decent percentage of the tribe who have strong (and loud) opinions that lack evidence or self-awareness!

I took my rucksack - I always take my rucksack everywhere - or should I say, rucksacks as I have a number of options. Bags and bag options are one of my mini-obsessions. This meant I could carry things that help me stay calm, reduce my stress levels and provide me with comfort and distractions: books; portable phone charger; water; snacks; lucky charms from Miss J; the aforementioned-headphones; notebook and pen; mental health journal; and, comfortable sweater/jacket.

I went with different people both days - and travelled with one (my father-in-law, with whom I am close) on Wednesday. This limited my alone-time, something I knew in advance. But this didn’t stop me seeking out moments of quiet and solace despite being with someone. I have learnt that a few quiet moments here and there - no talking, just resting - can help give me a little emotional energy boost.

There are negatives too. Despite my best efforts and the many positive interventions I made, it was still tiring, draining and very hard at times. I had a good time but perhaps, on reflection, back-to-back days with such stimulation was too much for me. Tuesday/Thursday or Wednesday/Friday may have worked better for me - not the intense 48 hours without a proper break to be on my own and fully recharge my emotional batteries.

I had a nightmare journey back on Thursday - which meant I was late to collect Miss J from holiday club at school - late by my plan - not late in the eyes of the school - but this caused me stress and was triggering. I have written before about my obsession with not being late and how being late takes me back to my childhood and standing waiting, and waiting, and waiting to be collected for a weekly visit. Any time I am late - whether for a restaurant booking, or a self-imposed timing, or meeting up of even the smallest significance - I am taken back to that little boy and the crushing sadness and rejection he felt. It brings a lump to throat even now writing those words - 35 years or so later.

This week’s trips to Hoylake were filled with pleasure too and fit squarely in my mental health jam jar. I got fresh air; sport; exercise; golf-related activity and stimulation, and time with people who matter to me; as well as a smattering of reading, music and podcasts to accompany me. But it was also tough at times. Part of my understanding of myself and my sense of what it means to be an introvert means that I can find peace with the difficulties too and will look to learn from this week for future events and activities.

The bottom line for me is that, as well as wanting to get involved in special occasions and events, like The Open, I have my own needs that I must have met. Meeting my own needs helps me to be the best version of myself and, put simply, helps me to enjoy life more.

There are times when I am happy to be one of the voices saying “come on Tommy lad”, but more often, I am the person who wants to say “quiet please”.