I like solitude. I enjoy my own company. I’m also lonely.
Mike was the only person who truly “got” me. We clicked, from the lightest humor to the deepest existential questions. He let me be me, and I let him be himself, even when it hurt, and sometimes it hurt a lot.
I miss Mike most when the sky is clear and deep blue, like it was this weekend. For the past few years, I’ve been doing what we’re advised to do avoid loneliness, because loneliness can shorten your life, and I need to live a long life for Angelic Daughter. So I “put myself out there!” I joined things! I auditioned for and was accepted as a member of a semi-professional choir. That lasted two seasons. I made myself a MeetUp group organizer. Three years in, I’ve told the group I’m going to step down after Labor Day.
This weekend I went to a summer picnic organized by a Facebook group of widows and widowers, when they finally held the event closer to where I live.
I just wanted to have a decent few hours of socializing with other people who have been through losing a spouse. I was late, thrown off by Wisconsin’s vigorous efforts to mystify out of state, in particular Illinois, drivers (oh, you mean the left turn lane started one hundred yards behind me? You mean that all the street names on Google maps differ from the street names on the road signs? It’s not 7th street, it’s “A”?) But I pasted on a smile, signed in, and tried to strike up a conversation with other attendees who were, as usual, about 90% women, and 10% coupled men who had met their partner at previous such gatherings.
They asked me where I was from, and I told them, and saw the immediate “oh, ohOOOhoh” reaction. They were assuming I lived on the wealthy close-to-the-lake side of town, where I grew up, back when it was normal, not filled with McMansions and Faux-chateaus, instead of the wrong-side-of-the-tracks part of town, where I live now. But the immediate assumption that I was moneyed (HA! Did you see my eleven year-old car with the bald tires?) instantly put me on the outside.
I left after an hour, drove home, and left the Facebook group.
People seem to find me intimidating or unapproachable. I know it’s mostly my fault. I notice myself being dismissive and judgmental before I’ve even completed a conversation with someone I’ve just met. They notice my sense of superiority, and quite rationally decide not to put up with it.
It’s not that I lack social skills – I throw a great party and I’m good at small talk – I just lack the same level of social interest other people have, along with their higher tolerance for other neurotypical adults’ dim-wittedness, superficiality, or inability to keep up with what is going around them. Maybe I should try loving kindness meditation, to learn to be less of an asshole, like self-confessed former asshole Dan Harris:
Usually I disconnect: crawl into my shell (not that I put any stock in it, but my astrological sign is Cancer, the crab–hard on the outside, soft on the inside) and keep to myself. Nobody “gets” me anyway, so why bother? I gather the best friends I’ve ever had, other than Mike: my favorite literary characters. I pull my favorite books off the shelf and read them again. Immersed in their world, I don’t have to think so much about mine.
I’m being pressured to push Angelic Daughter into another living situation before either of us is ready. I know it’s necessary: I have to get her launched while I’m still walking and talking, so I can be sure she’ll be safe, happy, and not lonely. I also need to reassure what little family I have that may survive me that things they don’t want to be responsible for are already arranged.
Maybe that’s what’s got me down. I’m gaining weight, feeling alone within boundaries not of my own choosing, with no immediate way forward to…what, exactly? I’m pissed off at myself for my inability to be happy with the life I’ve got, which is a better life that 99 % of the people on the planet have. What if you follow all the instructions for being happier, and it doesn’t work? So it’s back to one day at a time, don’t make plans, and try not to die before I’ve got things arranged for Angelic Daughter, whose preference is to live with me in my house forever.
And I get to be the one to try to help her understand that nothing is forever. Oh yay.
Turning inward and disliking what I find, I remain
your pouting, frustrated, lonely, solitary,
Ridiculouswoman
Oh dear…sometimes the best made plans just don’t work, do they? But you tried, and that’s what’s important. Keep trying. It took me longer than I had hoped, but I made really good friends over time. I joined a pool club that’s also a social club with year-round activities. Sometimes it’s been a bit messy (see my posts on Glamour Man), but most of the time it’s been a real escape and bridge to great friendships. And as I said, it took a LONG time to find this place, but when I did, it proved to be a godsend. Don’t give up!
Thanks for the encouragement, Shellie!
It is hard to become your own best friend and companion . Perhaps the hardest gift that Mike gave you. Reinforcing the idea of failure each time things don’t pan out is, of course, an easy pitfall. The right group, venue, volunteer job, meeting, mentor, etc. hasn’t found you yet. It isn’t because you are lacking something vital. It isn’t the right time. Your steadfast love of your daughter will lead you to the right solution. Your steadfast love for yourself (much harder) will also lead you to a place that may not be what you imagined, but will meet your needs. I believe this, and send you love as we stumble along our paths together.
Thanks, Judi. It’s always a comfort to be on the receiving end of your wisdom!
As usual, Bruce Springsteen was right in his song Hungry Heart, “Ain’t nobody wants to be alone.”
That doesn’t mean we have to be surrounded by friends all the time. Just enjoy the friends you do have when they are around, and know that you always have your literary characters to keep you company, when living breathing friends can’t be there. Like you said, your life is better than 99% of the people on the planet. Some days will still suck, but most of them should be cherished.
Good advice, Earl! I’m working on it!
I can relate to so much of what you say. I lost my husband and haven’t found anyone else who gets me. I’m also a Cancer, and my response to the insane world is escape into favorite books. I dont have any children but I have siblings that depend on me. So, yeah. I hear you.
Welp, maybe we can be alone together! Solitsry wudow book club! What are your favorite books? Mine are the Patrick O’Brian novels (starting with Master and Commander) about the Royal Navy during the Napoleonic wars.