I've grown very comfortable with my current situation. I love living by myself and always missed it, as I only experienced for a year before J and I moved in together. It feels like a leaden straight jacket has been removed from my body and I am light and free again.
Having someone constantly around to know what I am doing and when, has always bothered me.When I finally learned how to drive and got a car at the age of 22, I was ecstatic. It isn't that I had some exciting or debauched plans lined up; it was that I could go to a store and buy a pack of gum without it relying on or being the business of anybody but me. I didn't have to wait for my mother to get home from work or to be ready to go out. I didn't have to worry about the trip taking longer because she might want to make other stops or do a full on grocery shop. And I was able to escape and be totally alone with regards to people I knew. I could even take aimless drives around town, feeling the joy of driving and taking in the scenery, without having to answer to anybody or entertain them. I still do that from time to time, just get into my car and just drive, although these days when I buckle up I do have a momentary feeling of guilt and wastefulness due to the price of gas.
When I lived at home with my family, I spent an inordinate amount of time in my bedroom. My mother and brothers would ask me what I was doing in there all the time and I'd just reply "nothing" because I truly wasn't doing anything remarkable. I was reading, writing in my journal, watching television (someone gave me one for a holiday or my birthday), listening to music, moving furniture around, and playing endless games of solitaire or attempting to build playing card houses. I really wasn't up to anything. I just preferred to be by myself and I really, really, really like my privacy. My mother would make me come downstairs and spend time with the family on occasion, probably because she worried for my mental health. But sitting in the living room for two hours to watch a movie was horrific for me. I felt trapped and stuck and bound by the minutes that ticked slowly past. I just wanted to be alone.
And it wasn't that I didn't like them. My family and I have always been off and on but the on times are filled with fun, laughter, wit, and incredible enjoyment. Things were rough growing up but my brother M and I did have our moments. It hasn't changed now either. I enjoy spending some time with my family but for most of the year, I don't keep in touch with them at all and they don't reach out to me. And I think that is fine. I used to make some efforts but they weren't returned and I got really upset. But now I'm fine with it because that is who we have always been. Maybe I'll see my family once a year, maybe once every other year. This is an odd time because my mother will be here at the end of August so I will see her twice in two months. But that is an anomaly and anything but the norm.
So having my apartment all to myself every morning and every evening is like being home alone for a weekend when I can stay shut up in my tiny bedroom for as long as I like. Nobody to worry that I'm doing something weird or dangerous, nobody to be nosy about what exactly it is that I'm doing, and, most importantly, nobody to judge me.
I am also OK with the separation. I'm not sad about it anymore, or embarrassed. It had to happen or else J and I were going to either totally implode or lead highly unsatisfactory lives. We both need to figure out if we want to be with one another but only after we figure out who we are. I think J is having an incredibly rough time and I think he is scared of losing me.. I'm having a less drastic version of self discovery. Where J is feeling a heavy weight of sadness due to his isolated lifestyle, I am feeling a certain joy in remembering who I am and what I like to do, even if that just means I'm rearranging furniture (seriously, I did that a lot as a kid). And while he is worried about losing me, I'm not. It isn't that I'm so confident in myself that I know he wouldn't leave me, but that if we don't work out I think I will be OK. Not at first, of course, but eventually. It would be incredibly sad and I might just be high on this solitude thing, but I feel I would be much more OK with our not working out than our trying to be together when we aren't happy. Not happy with ourselves and not happy with each other. And right now, I'm not happy with the man I married because he isn't the same person. The J today is one who has been gutted by an academic program that looks much like indentured servitude. I don't feel strength or confidence from him, just fear and sadness and a lethargy that keeps him from trying to improve his life and his situation. This is a stark contrast to the J I met in 2003, the one who was putting himself out there for fear of becoming a hermit, who was asking out any and every girl he felt like regardless of the chance of being rejected. He might have been faking his confidence then but I'd take that over the total lack of confidence today.
And as I told my friend recently, if you aren't at least as strong as I, it means I will have to carry you as well. And I can't do that anymore. I have too much to deal with on my own to have to carry your weight as well. I have this disease. I have begun to despise my job. I have realized that I've let too many years go by wasted. I cannot enable you or make your decisions. We all have to go after what we want ourselves. For the first time in my life, I am finally living for myself and not others. I'm putting myself first and letting me matter. I'm not being selfish, indulgent, or irresponsible, but looking after myself and worrying about my own happiness and well being. I feel like no one has ever done that before but I don't blame them because I always made it so easy. My mother would ask if I was OK or needed anything and I'd lie and say I was fine so as not to be a burden. She isn't a mind reader so what was I to expect? This isn't about blaming others but accepting my responsibility and moving on.
If I move on with J by my side, fantastic. If I move on by myself, so be it. But I am no longer content simply standing still.
Having someone constantly around to know what I am doing and when, has always bothered me.When I finally learned how to drive and got a car at the age of 22, I was ecstatic. It isn't that I had some exciting or debauched plans lined up; it was that I could go to a store and buy a pack of gum without it relying on or being the business of anybody but me. I didn't have to wait for my mother to get home from work or to be ready to go out. I didn't have to worry about the trip taking longer because she might want to make other stops or do a full on grocery shop. And I was able to escape and be totally alone with regards to people I knew. I could even take aimless drives around town, feeling the joy of driving and taking in the scenery, without having to answer to anybody or entertain them. I still do that from time to time, just get into my car and just drive, although these days when I buckle up I do have a momentary feeling of guilt and wastefulness due to the price of gas.
When I lived at home with my family, I spent an inordinate amount of time in my bedroom. My mother and brothers would ask me what I was doing in there all the time and I'd just reply "nothing" because I truly wasn't doing anything remarkable. I was reading, writing in my journal, watching television (someone gave me one for a holiday or my birthday), listening to music, moving furniture around, and playing endless games of solitaire or attempting to build playing card houses. I really wasn't up to anything. I just preferred to be by myself and I really, really, really like my privacy. My mother would make me come downstairs and spend time with the family on occasion, probably because she worried for my mental health. But sitting in the living room for two hours to watch a movie was horrific for me. I felt trapped and stuck and bound by the minutes that ticked slowly past. I just wanted to be alone.
And it wasn't that I didn't like them. My family and I have always been off and on but the on times are filled with fun, laughter, wit, and incredible enjoyment. Things were rough growing up but my brother M and I did have our moments. It hasn't changed now either. I enjoy spending some time with my family but for most of the year, I don't keep in touch with them at all and they don't reach out to me. And I think that is fine. I used to make some efforts but they weren't returned and I got really upset. But now I'm fine with it because that is who we have always been. Maybe I'll see my family once a year, maybe once every other year. This is an odd time because my mother will be here at the end of August so I will see her twice in two months. But that is an anomaly and anything but the norm.
So having my apartment all to myself every morning and every evening is like being home alone for a weekend when I can stay shut up in my tiny bedroom for as long as I like. Nobody to worry that I'm doing something weird or dangerous, nobody to be nosy about what exactly it is that I'm doing, and, most importantly, nobody to judge me.
I am also OK with the separation. I'm not sad about it anymore, or embarrassed. It had to happen or else J and I were going to either totally implode or lead highly unsatisfactory lives. We both need to figure out if we want to be with one another but only after we figure out who we are. I think J is having an incredibly rough time and I think he is scared of losing me.. I'm having a less drastic version of self discovery. Where J is feeling a heavy weight of sadness due to his isolated lifestyle, I am feeling a certain joy in remembering who I am and what I like to do, even if that just means I'm rearranging furniture (seriously, I did that a lot as a kid). And while he is worried about losing me, I'm not. It isn't that I'm so confident in myself that I know he wouldn't leave me, but that if we don't work out I think I will be OK. Not at first, of course, but eventually. It would be incredibly sad and I might just be high on this solitude thing, but I feel I would be much more OK with our not working out than our trying to be together when we aren't happy. Not happy with ourselves and not happy with each other. And right now, I'm not happy with the man I married because he isn't the same person. The J today is one who has been gutted by an academic program that looks much like indentured servitude. I don't feel strength or confidence from him, just fear and sadness and a lethargy that keeps him from trying to improve his life and his situation. This is a stark contrast to the J I met in 2003, the one who was putting himself out there for fear of becoming a hermit, who was asking out any and every girl he felt like regardless of the chance of being rejected. He might have been faking his confidence then but I'd take that over the total lack of confidence today.
And as I told my friend recently, if you aren't at least as strong as I, it means I will have to carry you as well. And I can't do that anymore. I have too much to deal with on my own to have to carry your weight as well. I have this disease. I have begun to despise my job. I have realized that I've let too many years go by wasted. I cannot enable you or make your decisions. We all have to go after what we want ourselves. For the first time in my life, I am finally living for myself and not others. I'm putting myself first and letting me matter. I'm not being selfish, indulgent, or irresponsible, but looking after myself and worrying about my own happiness and well being. I feel like no one has ever done that before but I don't blame them because I always made it so easy. My mother would ask if I was OK or needed anything and I'd lie and say I was fine so as not to be a burden. She isn't a mind reader so what was I to expect? This isn't about blaming others but accepting my responsibility and moving on.
If I move on with J by my side, fantastic. If I move on by myself, so be it. But I am no longer content simply standing still.
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