Sunday, September 2, 2012

Solitude and companionship

Yesterday was a good day.  It made me so happy to have some free time.  It wasn't exactly free because I was working on something that has to be ready by today, but it was my something, not for my job.

I haven't have free time in weeks.  Last weekend, I was crippled by fatigue and depression, so I couldn't do much that I wanted to do.  The weekend before, I went to my job.  The weekend before that, I went on a trip.  But finally, now I have a few days to putter around at home doing the things I want to be doing.  Sure the trip a few weeks ago was something I wanted to do, but it's just not the same as being able to have time to myself at home.  I really love having time to myself.

At times in my life when good companions are abundant, I need to take some time away from them.  I need quiet time to read, write, and think. I feel suffocated without it.

It's true that when I'm depressed, I feel that being alone is a bad thing. But that is a symptom of my depression.  I'm not myself when I'm depressed.  When I'm myself, which is most of the time, I know that 1) Everyone needs a balance of time with others and time alone, 2) I seem to like more time alone than some people, 3) I have more than enough of people at my job, so I'm glad to get away from people in my free time, and 4) there are a few people I like who I wish wanted to spend more time with me.

I don't mind being alone.  What I mind is when the people I want to be with push me away.  What I mind is when they do fun things, things I'd love to do, and they don't invite me.  What I mind is when I invite them to do something with me, and they don't want to do it.  What I mind is that parents of small children seem to only want to spend time with other parents.  You would think they would see that as a childless person, I have a pair of spare hands.  You would think they would find it useful to hang out with someone who has a pair of spare hands, to either hold a kid, or do whatever they can't do while they are holding a kid.  I love to dance, but when I took ballroom dance class, there were too many women.  The men were supposed to ask different women each time, but I kept on being one of the leftovers, every time.  I don't think it's fair that unpopular people don't get to dance.

So, I love being alone, but I hate being unwanted.

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