I have earlier written about my wish to stay alone, to stay solitary, single. I am not sure I have written about why, or what it is like. The days are fast approaching the second anniversary of living in this flat, alone. Maybe that is why I spend so much time reflecting upon my situation. Maybe it is just because I cannot sleep and have too much awake time on my hands.
There are alot of advantages to living alone, to not answering to anyone but myself. I don't have to adjust to anyone in any matter: I sleep when I want to, I listen to what music I want to when I want to (even when I sleep), I can have silence when I want to. I have the freedom to eat or not as it suits me, and there's noone to complain that I am just eating bread and cheese or alittle cereal and not bothering cooking. The things I leave strewn around me bother noone but myself and I can tidy them up when they annoy me. I get to sleep alone every night, I get to sleep diagonally and using all the bed surface and my twisting and turning does not annoy anyone, I don't steal duvets or get duvets stolen or kick anyone or get kicked or pushed out of bed. There is freedom to not go out unless I want to, to simply stay in, to enjoy being a bit of a hermit, getting all my social input online in the form of text. Freedom to work as much as I like and can/have energy for.
And finally there is security. If I don't deal with people they cannot hurt me. I am safe against heartbreak, hurt, raised voices, angry silences, there is no fear of lifted hands, cowering in a corner. This is my domain and as there is only me here, I feel completely safe in all my rooms.
But it is not just bliss. There are things that hurt. Alone can be very lonely. Having to deal with anything the world chucks at me on my own, with my own resources, not having anyone to ask for help or just support in any decision or solution or action or problem is tough, although I know I grow stronger every time I manage. Talking to myself and the cat just to hear voices. Always sleeping alone, never any warmth or someone to cuddle close to at night. The ache that seems to sit somewhere in my spine for physical contact. Eating goes to hell because noone see that you don't eat properly, can't bother to cook just for one person, who cares anyway, I'll be dead soon. Never going out because of the lack of someone to do things with.
Most days I feel that the plus sides outnumber the minuses. I have been happier and mentally healthier in most ways since I moved here, better for every month. Alot of that has to do with feeling safe, finally.
However: There are two kinds of self-confidence - belief in one's own abilities and belief in one's own self worth as a person. The former is spiralling upwards in my case, while the second spirals ever downwards, the reason being my lack of social contact outside work, where my abilities is all that counts and I know I am good at what I do. But I am growing ever more convinced that I am unlovable and that I will never again have even close afk friends, too.
Where does the truth lie then? Somewhere inbetween I suppose. My best guess, letting my analytical abilities kick into action, is that I choose to not long for what I cannot have, make it my own decision. And is that such a bad thing?