Journal Entry: Dec 2, 2021
When I was younger I hated being alone, especially on a Friday or Saturday night. Being alone back then made me feel like I wasn’t liked or wanted – all that worrying about being popular crap. Now being alone feels so different. Sometimes I crave it. Somebody is always around, in my space, my head, my heart, my bed. It’s either the kids, or Kyle or clients or friends or mother or even the dog and cat. Somebody always needs something from me. My phone doesn’t even leave me alone. It’s always dinging or pinging or ringing. I wish the world would just shut up and leave me alone for once.
And then when it does. And I wake up in the middle of the night and no one needs me and I’m just alone with myself then I hate the feeling of loneliness. I must have a dysfunctional relationship with “loneliness.” Or is it I have a dysfunctional relationship with myself. One minute I hate being alone and all the thoughts that pop into my head when I’m just with myself and then the next I know I’m screaming at everyone to leave me alone. Talk about bipolar feelings. I wish I could find the balance and learn to accept with more grace and ease those times when I’m alone and not hate it so much and on the other end I wish that I could embrace with more grace those times when I’m surrounded by needed people in my life and learn to give of myself without losing myself in the process. I think that is what makes motherhood the toughest job in the world. I get so involved in the kid’s lives and who they are becoming and what hurts them and what they need and whether they are safe or happy or loved that I forget to treat myself with the same compassion. And when I’m alone all those parts of me that I have neglected scream at me for attention. Being alone certainly challenges my relationship with myself. Hummm…maybe I need to journal on this topic more often. I might discover a part of me in my alone time that I never knew was there.