One thing you should know about me is that I’m very independent. I enjoy growing on my own. Working with others can be OK, but I do prefer to be somewhat of a lone wolf.
When I was 21 I purchased my first home. I’m still living here. That is my biggest accomplishment to date. I think the last time I had a “roommate” or lived with someone, aka ex-boyfriend, was in 2007. I have dabbled with the idea of getting a roommate at my house, but walking around in underwear, being a slob, and not closing the bathroom door has always stopped me for further consideration.
Alone time I enjoy the most. For example right now while I’m typing this out ,I’m just lounging on the couch enjoying the muffled crickets outside that are happily chirping and the finches are singing to each other. I’m not anxious because there isn’t a roommate complaining that I’m lazy, or point out any of my flaws. Bitch, I know my flaws! Even when someone sleeps at my house, in my bed or my spare room, I’m always anxious and just ready for them to leave so I can relax. It’s strange.
With all this love of being alone, the past three days I remembered the downfall of being alone… being sick. I used to be such a trooper. Whenever I would wake up from a hard night of drinking and partying, I could put on some makeup and go to work and be a functioning person of society. Now? I am like a troll that lives under a bridge. Instead of eating billy goats, just get me a cheeseburger from… who the fuck cares, just get me a cheeseburger and no blood will be spilled! I have become a pansy when it comes to getting sick. I never thought I would, but I am.
On Wednesday, I felt great. The weather has been terrific, mid-70s, and this week it has increased to the 80s and the weekend will be in the 90s. I have the top down in my car driving home from work just soaking up the rays. I get at home and do some chores followed by some organizing some of my accessories. I find my Gandalf wizard hat and decided to do some selfies. I was feeling on top of the world! When I looked at the clock it was past the time I usually will start making dinner, so I thought to myself something quick and light. And once I thought of food, I immediately got sick to my stomach. I felt green. A quick nap was clearly in order. After laying down for 30 minutes, I sprung out of a light sleep and ran to the bathroom. My half dissolved lunch came up. Then a hour or two later, water came up. The next 48 hours was just fighting with nausea. I left work on Thursday morning still fighting trying not to puke and having the chills to hot flashes. I went home and slept. When I awoke in the afternoon, I haven’t felt so alone in awhile. I was feeling miserable. I was feeling so vulnerable. Yet, I was only there to pick up the pieces and to reassure myself that I was getting better. I let my family know I wasn’t feeling well (since we all work together), and no one called or checked up.
After feeling so alone, I felt so needy. It was quite disgusting really. I am at a really weird place right now of not having steady footing and my emotions are definitely reflecting it. The time right now feels so unpredictable that all I’m doing is falling and grasping at air. And I think this sickness that came on was a sign of stress, perhaps? I don’t know. But it went from true sickness on Wednesday, to sleep deprivation/nausea on Thursday, to a massive migraine on Friday. To me, clearly a doctor (of vodka), these are signs of stress.
Memorial Day weekend, I was up at my family’s cabin. It’s the first time I’ve been up there since my grandpa passed away. My grandparents basically lived up there during the summer months. My grandpa liked fiddling around on the property during the day, and loved getting a drink, a cigar and building a big ass campfire in the evenings that would last well into the early morning. Being up there last weekend made his death just so much more real. I sat in an empty cabin waiting for my other family members to arrive. The cabin creaked as it warmed up from the wood burning stove. It felt so much more barren. Something was missing.
June is going to be bittersweet. It’ll be the last time in awhile my best friend and her fiance will be living in town. They’re getting married this month, then moving. I was so excited for this year because days off at work were working out with past schedules of friend meetups. At work we are taking the 3rd of July off for Independence Day. My friends have a pretty big Fourth of July party every year. I usually join for a hour then have to go back home because I have to work the next morning. The party is not happening this year. Same with the Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years Party…. not this year. They always throw parties where our group of friends join and it’s great to see everyone. And I’m afraid I won’t see anyone. I’m afraid no one will want to see me. Everything is changing. A new chapter is beginning… is what I keep telling myself.
With all this change and leaving it makes these moments of alone time that I used to cherish and love, not so great. The control freak side of myself is wigging out. Nothing in my life at this point in time, I have any control over. Nothing. So I’m just going to continue to fall, and try, try, try to let go.