Becoming a germaphobe is a logical addition to the existence of a detached introvert. I have a minor touch of germaphobia – it is transparent to most of the world (I think).
It doesn’t keep me confined to my home. I don’t wear a surgical mask and gloves when I go out in public. But I do have a little container of hand gel in my pocket at all times. I do take notice of the layout of public bathrooms- ideally faucets, soap dispensers and paper towels are touchless. Automatic hand dryers are not favored, because I need a paper towel to wrap around the door handle when I exit.
I do shake hands, although I do keep in mind that my right hand needs sanitizing at the next opportunity, and I certainly won’t eat or drink anything until then. Until I wash that hand, in my mind, it is the giant, throbbing, bright red hand of a cartoon character that just had his hand crushed by a hammer. It is screaming for attention.
But what does this have to do with being a detached person? I think it is a condition that supports my premise that I am better off being away from others. If I were on a deserted island, I would have little chance of getting the stomach flu because someone wiped his ass and then inexplicably decided not to wash his hands, but rather touched common surfaces with those infection-laden hands and exposed me to his sickness.
It allows me to judge others. If you are coughing into your hands, or just plain coughing in some awful, wet, raspy manner out in public instead of in the comfort and solitude of your home, I conclude that you are inconsiderate and dense. And this feeds my detachment condition.
So yes, my germaphobia is legitimate- I genuinely have a strong aversion to being exposed to germs and viruses. But it also feeds my antisocial condition, which degrades the quality of my life significantly
Sensus Communis 