Myers Briggs is Wrong!

We took the Myers Briggs Personality Test in class, so today’s blog post is gonna be a pseudo horror story about becoming your opposite personality. I would rather answer a prompt and give my opinion, but here it goes. This is gonna be in first person but its not necessarily about me.

‘I’ve always been a level headed person. I always think before I act; well usually with big decisions anyway. Even in situations where timing is everything, I can always think on my feet. I have no problem hearing new ideas or accepting people as they are, unless they’re like… really annoying. I like to think I’m pretty original. I like to share my opinion, but I couldn’t care less about what others think of me. I think about a lot of things, things in the past, things in the present, and things in the future. I tend to overthink if I’m really stuck on something. I’m honest and straight forward, which tends to be a double edged sword. I can’t believe that stupid quiz generated that stupid answer! You’d think the creator would’ve put a little it more effort into that test. I am sympathetic not empathetic, why can’t people know the freaking diff- ‘! I snapped out of my internal monologue. I looked up and was reminded where I was. The most crowded hallway in the school. Getting pushed is a daily occurrence, I’m used to it. But this time I almost fell over! When I started to scan for the offender, I met the eyes of an irritated upperclassman. “Hey! Watch where you’re going.” He gave me one last glare and stalked off into the sea of students. I realized I didn’t say anything during the whole interaction. Why? I had plenty to say to him, but I didn’t. I felt bad. Like it was my fault that he was mad. I was appalled at myself. I always spoke my mind and I always stood up for myself. ‘That was weird’, I thought. But I shook it off; this had never happened before, so why should it happen again? I nodded to myself. ‘You should never include an outlier’. I straightened up and hurried off to class.

“So, what do you want to do for the project?”, Olivia spun to face me on her swivel chair, feet swinging back and forth. I tapped my pencil idly on my chin, trying to think of something. I spoke without thinking, “We should do something easy,”. I faltered, as if I wasn’t the one who said those words. Olivia shot me a funny look, ‘Okay, so she heard that too.’ She blinked, “That’s not like you at all. You’re the one with the crazy ideas,”. Olivia and I have been friends for years, and yet here she was, looking at me like she didn’t even know me. I had to say something, because at the moment I was just staring dumbly at her. “Oh! Um, I’ve just been having an off day, but I’m fine. You can pick the project,” I forced a chuckle, hoping she would accept my sorry excuse of an explanation. With a smile, she raised a hand and brought it to my forehead, “Are you feelin’ alright?”. She laughed, trying to make light of the undeniably awkward interaction. I felt a surge of frustration towards my friend, something that very rarely happened. “I said I’m fine!”, I snapped, shoving her hand away from my face. The words came out with more venom than intended, but it was too late. The point was made. I could tell Olivia was hurt. She mumbled an apology and turned back to her computer. Yes I felt bad, but once again I was baffled by my actions. I never let my emotions get the best of me. I looked over at Olivia to apologize, but something stopped me. Was it guilt? Fear of confrontation? I couldn’t quite place it, but during the quick glance towards my partner, I noticed that her feet had stopped swinging.

As I closed my front door, I immediately let my bag fall. As it dropped to the ground, so did my stomach. After the day was done, I had no idea why I had acted so strange. Who was this insecure, inflexible, passive person? I gave a strained smile to my parents who were sitting at the table, and headed to my room. I never did that either. I always told my parents about my day, and then asked about theirs. I fell onto my bed, suddenly very tired. I had only a few beats of silence until there was a knock at my door. My mother peaked her head into my room, “Hi sweetie, I know its late but I know how excited you were about this quiz, so I wanted to share my results with you!”. I squinted over to my clock. I blinked a few times to make sure I was seeing clearly. My brow furrowed, ‘It’s already 11? But I just laid down…’. I looked back to my mother, when I finally registered what she was saying. The quiz..? What quiz…? Oh! The quiz! That horribly inaccurate quiz! My thoughts where extremely fuzzy, but that didn’t stop them from racing a mile a minute. I waited for my mother to say goodnight and close the door, before I snatched my phone. I was so unbearably tired, but something was pushing my fingers into the screen. When the page loaded before me, I began to read. As I finished the paragraph, I could feel myself beginning to doze off. ‘The quiz… ‘, I thought, ‘it was right…’. And those where my last thoughts as I drifted off to sleep.