“I’m alone a lot. And I’m really good at it.”
I wasn’t. But that’s what I would say. No one had to know otherwise. For years. I’m alone. No problem. Until it was a big problem. And I couldn’t understand why. I was doing all the things those stupid self help articles said to do.
• go to a movie by yourself
• go to dinner by yourself
• go for a walk
• try a new sport
• find a hobby
• indulge in selfies (I’m not making this up I swear)
Did them all. I was very busy. I had just enough time to go home and go to bed. I was mastering the art of being alone. Success! Here’s the thing though. You’re not really becoming good at being alone while you do all this. You’re just busy.
At the end of the day I still came home to alone. To silence. The weekends were the worst. No communication with anyone. I could only read so much (I used books as an escape). Now I wasn’t just alone. I was lonely. The pain was real. My body begged for contact, affection…something. My head told me stories about dying alone. My anxiety and depression worsened.
I had to do something. Soon. But I didn’t know what else to do. I mean what else could I do? I was doing everything!
Except the one thing I should have been doing. Allowing myself to feel. Feel sad, feel shitty, feel angry.
So I did nothing.
Day and days of nothing. If alone was the problem well I was gonna meet it and sit with it. And feel EVERYTHING. So…come home from work, do nothing. Weekends, do nothing. I just lay on the couch and stared into nothing. And felt everything. My brain had a field day. It could go where ever it wanted. (And let me just say “wow”). Can I say I came up with any answers to my life’s questions in all that silence? Nope. I was focused on being comfortable being by myself with my thoughts. That takes time. Which, coincidentally, I had a lot of.
And it worked. I still get the “feelings”, but they don’t cripple me like before. I acknowledge them for what they are, just feelings, and I sit with them and they eventually go away. I used to fear spending the rest of my life alone. I don’t anymore. I am absolutely ok with just me. If that’s what the Universe has planned for me the we’re cool. My life is full of me stuff right now (without being busy) so I’m good. And that’s the way it should be.
I’m still alone a lot. But now I’m actually pretty good at it.