Solitude

There are days when solitude is a heady wine that intoxicates you with freedom, others when it is a bitter tonic, and still others when it is a poison that makes you beat your head against the wall. ~Colette
I came across this quote today, and couldn’t help but to think how cunningly accurate it is.
Solitude can at times be like an elixir, a draught of the sweetest nectar, yours for the taking, to do with as you please. You can be like Tom Cruise, and rock around your house in your underwear to your favorite tunes. (Trust me, try it, it’s quite refreshing :crazy: ) You can take a long, luxurious, uninterrupted bath or shower, and pamper yourself upon exiting. Or you can go outside and be with nature without having to answer questions about it. :biggrin: One of my favorite things to do used to be going to this beautiful bird sanctuary that was behind the place where I used to work. You entered this place, and, even though it was small, it was as if the rest of the world didn’t even exist. It was quiet, shady, green, with birds twittering and chattering, and flowers scattered in brilliant carpets sheltering the lovingly worn pathways. It sometimes was a necessity for me after a long day with the kids I worked with.
But really, anything that you like to do JUST for you, by yourself, can feel so renewing. You NEED to do some things for yourself. You need to take care of yourself, because if you don’t, how could you possibly take care of anyone else? Mothers are probably the ones most guilty of not taking advantage of every bit of true solitude. Myself, I can’t even remember the last time I had some.
While solitude can be a freedom, there are other times when it can feel like a cage. These are times when that solitude is thrust upon us involuntarily. The ending of a relationship. The loss of someone though distance or death. Even something as commonplace as an argument where one person gets upset and leaves the vicinity can leave that bittersweet taste in our mouths. There is a bereft, lonely feeling that we often turn inwards to the point where we believe this solitude is of our own making. We desperately do not WANT to be alone at these times. We need contact, but there just doesn’t seem to be any available. We long to reconnect with that person we have lost one way or another, and deep inside, there is still a hope that one day we WILL do so. So, while this kind of solitude is perhaps the most painful, it also contains a small measure of hope, and a relieving sense of temporariness, so that we take our bitter tonic resolutely and wait for the day when we no longer have to take it.
Then there is the worst type of solitude imaginable. Sometimes I have to wonder just how many of us TRULY experience it. The type of solitude that is completely self-inflicted. I myself often inflict this upon myself. You push people away, before they ever have a chance to really know you. Or, you feel they are getting too close, so you pull away until they back off, and eventually they get fed up and move on, and even though you did it to yourself, you beat yourself up over how idiotic you are. Why can’t you trust more? Why does everyone seem to leave you just when you need them the most? Well, when you need them the most is when you are the most frightened of being hurt, and the most likely to push them away. I do this constantly. Even online. I avoid other sites, I avoid chat, I keep AIM closed, so that I don’t have to talk to anyone, I don’t have to be a burden with the way that I am feeling, or I don’t have to bother anyone with what a dork I am. Oh, there are times when I see how silly this is, but when the feeling strikes me, it’s like there is no turning back. And then when people DO fade away or move on, it’s like a self-fulfilling prophecy. See, I knew they wouldn’t stay around. Good thing I didn’t let myself get too close. But what the hell is wrong with me that this keeps happening?
Solitude of this magnitude is horrifying, because is feels as though you are a homeless starving person looking through the window at the well-fed, war and smiling people. But you can’t make them hear you. And you are so afraid to bang on the window. Afraid they will just laugh and pull down the shade.
This is something I wrote a few days ago. I have been feeling pretty down lately, so please, if it will concern you, just don’t read it, because it helped me IMMENSELY just to let it all out…

In The Mirror
That girl in the mirror, just looking at me
I wish she would die, so I could be free
Free of the hurt and the pain and the lies
Free of the pathetic ugly face I despise
That girl in the mirror, she forgot how to smile
So long ago, she finds nothing worthwhile
If I could I would smash her right into the ground
Break that stupid mirror so she would never be found
That girl in the mirror, she will never truly be me
But as long as she’s there no one will ever really see me
The fat and the fear are pretty effective at keeping
People away, they don’t care to see this loser weeping
That girl in the mirror, that fucked-up bitch
I wish I could stab her and throw her in a ditch
Those few that may notice that she had gone away
Would merely think how much better off they became that day