I know the whys and the hows when it comes to my lifelong struggle of being or feeling alone, but I’ve yet to discover the solution to letting those feelings go. I have honestly spent more time alone and in only my own company in the last year than I may have my entire life. I’m okay with this. In fact, sometimes now I prefer it! Huge progress for me, lemme tell ya! 😉

I was born the eldest of three to a mother whom I now believe to have serious mental illness/es. To my knowledge these went entirely undiagnosed and untreated when she was in my life. I couldn’t have known as a child what any of this means, but I always knew she was different in that she wasn’t the doting type, nor the protective type. My mother was neglectful at best. She had moments (and perhaps days) of near normalcy where she’d seemed interested in my/our lives or that she truly loved and cared about me/us. For the most part though, my mother always told me to, “Go outside and play!!!”

And so began a lifelong pattern of constantly seeking fulfillment and happiness outside of the home, outside of myself and always suspicious of having to be left alone for long stretches. I can’t say that I had anxiety back then for certain, but I do recall feeling a bit paranoid from time to time and almost always when I was left alone for what felt like far too long. When my siblings arrived I was hopeful, but not for long as I soon realized this meant that I would be changing diapers on the regular and built-in babysitting was a given.

This all seemed to work out in my younger years. I always had a best friend and later more. By the time I was ten years old I was rarely ever home at all, except to sleep and stuff. I had a pretty rich life at that age, come to think of it. I started my paper route, babysat other people’s kids for money and was always at my friends’ houses or on the phone with them at home. When boys entered the picture? Ha! Forget about it! 😉

It wasn’t really until last year when I moved out on my own that I had to sort of face this shit head on. I was completely unprepared. It was crushing and suffocating at first. A friend insisted I get good at it and pronto…or else?! Ugh! Can I just say here that this is a terrible form of encouragement, but there’s a reason that friendship ended. I made some strides and did my best. Now I feel like a fucking pro! The last few months have proven to me that I can be okay on my own, alone, and only in my own company. Because I’m fucking awesome!

I heard a song this morning that made me recall a time when not having someone to hang out with nearly kept me from doing anything. Specifically, I had moved back in with my family after a financial hardship (don’t buy a Ford, LOL) and it was late on a Saturday night and all of my friends were busy. I was desperately bored and dying to do something. I sat at the dining room table watching MTV (they used to show these things called “music videos” a long time ago, chi’ren) when Orgy’s cover of “Blue Monday” came on and I longed to go to the goth club to dance. I sat there quite sad, watching the video and feeling sorry for myself. When the song ended I felt even more alone there in the dark.

And then I realized that the only thing stopping me was me! And so I changed my top and headed right the fuck out the door to dance the night away…on my own! I had a blast, too! 😉