Context

May 02, 2003
12:12 pm

The last few months have been full of introspection and self-analysis. Now I'm going to share with whomever might chance across these pages (all two of you!) some of my key realizations.

I've never been very good at being alone. I used to think that it was because I was just a needy person, especially in Significant Other type relationships. But in my most recent serious relationship, I had the opposite role...I was the non-clingy one, the one who was always trying to get more time and space for myself. But lately I've been feeling it again...that nagging, semi-submerged panic that accompanies a realization that I don't have plans for the evening, or for the weekend, or for the rest of my life.

So I was wondering where that backslide came from, when I had done so much to get to a place where I felt independent and self-sufficient. And I was talking with an online friend of mine about writing, and how I am at my most creative when I'm all alone because that's when I feel things so fully...just these huge waves of pure rage or love or giddiness or misery or whatever happens to be going through me at the time. And it clicked into place that THAT is exactly why being alone makes me feel a little nervous: I am incredibly intense company for myself. And since that realization, I find myself absolutely craving some alone time. I'm going to schedule some soon, and just lie down and feel things and listen to music and write and write and write.

Another realization that I've come to is that my emotional state seems to have two distinct layers these days. The surface layer is fairly calm and clear...I'm copacetic, maintaining, keeping busy, being social, trying to enjoy the good things in my life. And sometimes even getting to happiness. But then there's the deeper layer, where things are black and gritty and murky, and scary things are hiding around corners. Lots and lots of bad feelings, old and new hurts, and shapeless fears live there. Sometimes something will happen to make that layer bubble up to the surface, and then I fall apart for an hour or a day until it settles back down.

I think I need to deal with some stuff down there. I think maybe I can and should and want to go down to that place purposefully and consciously. I think I might even be able to stay there long enough to work some shit out, and then come back up to okay. I'll let you know how that works out for me.