Sometimes I think it’s funny how I’m so used to being alone. That I chose to do things alone. As a teen, I had no choice. My mother didn’t want me. My extended family didn’t want me. The commune was terrified to have me around questioning them. I was a problem they had created. So I was sent away. The rebel, the black sheep, the one to pray for and to keep out. Keep your children away from her. Warn others not to take her in.
Now at 40, I’m so used to being alone that I crave it at times. I don’t feel as alone and desolate as I did. That heavy blackness that sucks every part of your being in. Worse than a black hole. Desperately clawing thru the darkness trying to find the light. Gasping chest heaving silent sobs choking you. That heavy aloneness.
I had a heartbreaking revelation in the middle of the night as a teen. We are like grains of sand. Millions of specks that blend together. Disappear in the chaos of life. I realized I was utterly alone when I might need someone to help me. Hug me, hold me, push back the darkness for me when I was too tired to do it any longer. It took a couple more decades to realize we are only as alone as we choose to be.
One morning at about 5 am I called my aunt sobbing. I had been fighting the demons all night. Trying to understand why I was alone. Why I had no one. Why I was unwanted. I was wanted. I had two dear friends who wanted me but I felt so lost, so confused, so unworthy I hid from them. From their love and support. So here I was calling my aunt. I asked her, “Is this what you meant when you said we are all ultimately alone?” Woken from a dead sleep she struggled to understand me. She had no idea what I was talking about so I ended the call. My mother came to visit and brought me lunch shortly after that call. She was of little comfort to me.
I didn’t know how to put into words how the demons came at night. Attacking my carefully built walls. Undermining my happiness. I didn’t realize then that something as simple as exercise, sunshine, a nearby friend would help chase those thoughts away.
Now after a full day or a weekend with others I’m exhausted. I need rest, quiet, to be alone. To regain my strength. For sitting listening to the ebb and flow of conversation, watching the different types of personalities. It leaves me drained. Even when with those that I love and adore. The ones that I can be myself with. Even that exhausts me. Leaves me weak and depleted, aching craving rest.
I still do things alone. I prefer to be with a friend of course but I don’t let it hold me back. I go out for lunch, kayak the lake, hike the trails, talk to my dog, have a bottle of wine. Live life in general alone. Not afraid anymore. Demons don’t haunt my nights anymore. Turns out this a good quality for me to have as I now have an amazing boyfriend who happens to be a rig worker. As in he is away half the time. I joked on our four year anniversary it’s actually two since he’s gone half the time. Apparently, I’m the only one that finds that funny.