The importance of loneliness

I feel a bit embarassed now as I recall the first few days of the week and how I believed the only thing missing from my experiences was company. I think whenever I travel, I have some difficult days and they are the ones I learn the most from, I have learnt something that I had been beginning to understand about myself but had forgotten, something that defines all my experiences and should have been obvious. 

I'm not a people person. 

I don't like people. 

Of course, I like certain people, but they are not 'people', people refers to the mass of human beings that surrounds us and enjoying the conpany of select persons who I have a bond with is not enough to make me like 'people'. 

As time goes on, I discover more and more how my life is governed by introversion, by the errosion of my boundaries when louder humans who see nothing wrong with trampling over my wants and needs, who take my time, my emotional resources and my energy. Too long have people been selective about the meaning of the word 'no', too long have they pushed and edged around it, decided it does not apply to them, that their feelings outweigh my own and that they can take what they want with minimal responsibility. 

Well no more. I will not roar it, I will say it quietly and gently, I will not become someone I am not in order to protect my boundaries, I will say it as me and I will say it with no appology as I recieve none when people fail to listen to that one simple word. 

I cannot be drained and burnt out by people who are not like me, who take more than I can give, and most importantly, I will defend myself. 

Too long have I taken a stance that it is is easier to repair the damage it does than to protect and defend myself, that it is worth compromising my own feelings to spare someone else the awkwardness of being stood up to when the same thought is not spared for me. 

This trip I have been okay, safe, the boundaries pushed were entirely benign but the emotional drain and the turmoil caused by people choosing to overlook my limits has been too great, and it should not make a difference the context when maintaining boundaries. 

I really need loneliness, I will appreciate it better now. It is loneliness but it is also freedom, it is revival, it is the calm that spreads on the surface of a lake. I will not deny that is brings about a saddness in me, but I can see that it is by far the lesser of two evils and in time, when I have people around me once again, I will be glad to have spent that time alone and my achievements will be all the greater for it. 

Just a quick update. (May contain self pity)

Okay, so I haven't written because I've been miserable, and that doesn't make for good writing or for good reading, but I wanted to keep people in the loop. I'm not strugging with massive demons, I'm just really bloody lonely and there are only so many shop assisants I can talk at before word gets out and they start avoiding me. I did however, have a very good day on Monday, after the cinema I went in search of tea shops and discovered T2, which is a kind of Davidstea from Australia, we have them in britain too, I've just never been into one. That are very impressive, I think the adrenalin of finding so much tea and the actual caffine boost of trying so much tea made me a bit overwhelmed. That night I went to the circus, (La Verità, beautiful, contemporary circus) and it wasn't bad, though a little busy for my taste, too much going on at once. However,I made   friends with the woman sat beside me who was very interesting, I may see her again as she offered me a lift to Otari-Wiltons bush this evening for a light show, but I don't know yet. Then Tuesday (yesterday) I met a friend for lunch, the first host I had in Wellington (2013) who I feel lucky to have stayed in contact with. Went into various shops, just trapsed, felt rather deflated despite managing to actually get out of the house, went to the museum but couldn't focus, came back, had a bit to eat then headed out to the 'dingle' (well, session on at the welsh bar), as I walked out of the apartment door I did a U-turn and walked straight back in, I had to give myself a fair pep talk before I felt confident enough to venture out and go to the session, only I didn't enjoy it, I was on the outside, in a bar full of people with not a single person to talk to or instrument to play, I wrote a bit, drew a bit, drank my ginger beer, reflected on how, like two years ago at the outdoor cinema, it was okay to concede defeat when you realised that you didn't want to do something because you just didn't like it. That as long as you don't let fear hold you back, once you've conquered that fear, it's fine to say "tits to this, I'm out of here suckers" or words to that effect. Not everything is about forcing yourself to do things you don't want to do, not everything is about inner demons, sometimes you're just cold or lonely or bored and you decide to leave. Though I'd missed my chance to sneak off to the cinema so I stayed a while for the hell of it. I walked back along courtney place, the centre of Wellington's night life and bar culture (and very close to where I'm staying) and watched all the happy people with other happy people so I walked past my apartment and out to the waterfront where I stared out into the vast, dark, sea and the distant lights of the city like some walking cliche of angst. Ughh, yeah, that's me, looking out at those cold lonely waves, black and turbulent, it's was like looking to a mirror, like looking into the depths of my soul... Ah f*ck off internal dialogue.  But I still haven't shaken that feeling off, now, on Wednesday morning I'm feeling sorry for myself, and then I'm like 'Hey you're in the best place on earth' and then I'm feeling dismal at my inability to appreciate my surroundings, and I'm an awful person then, and my guilt reaches up and knocks me over the head and I should be donating my body to starving orphans or something. Anyway, so, my thoughts are not concise and neat, I don't think I'm doing a great job conveying my feelings and to add to that it's 11.40 now and I still haven't got out, oh joy, more self imposed restrictions, more shame. I didn't keep to the plan mum, I screwed up. 

So this is why sometimes I stop writing, and I need to stop sometimes because my narrative has to be good, even at the depths of dispair, I can write about how awful I feel but this, this is a far poorer narrative, it's hardly even a thread of sense, it's a ramble, and I don't want to ramble, so I hope you'll forgive me for my lack of updates, normal service will resume when I am either euphoric or full of pain, because this, this watery self pity isn't woth either of our time.

T2

Poor man's dingle

At 6:30PM.

At 6:30 after having been awake since 7am, I finally plucked up the courage to go out. Oh joy. 

I am opposite a big park, I will add a photo. It's very pretty from above. I can't decide which is worse, being inside or being outside. That sounds terrible, It would have sounded better if I'd said "I can't decide which is better" but that would be a bit pointless. I'm stuck inside, don't get me wrong, I have days, especially if Mum is away, where I don't go out and I no one visits, but I'm never alone alone, there are people I could phone, people who are awake (*would it kill you guys to stay awake all night in case I need to chat??) and there are people outside the window, walking past, walking dogs, people across the street yelling and banging on each others windows (we live across from the 'vulnerable adults' accommodation, apparently window banging is like a whole language for them) and people parking their cars in out residents only bays (and earning beady stares from me as I sit in my window). What I mean is I still see a lot if people, and not people 32 floors down in the street like ants, people at eye level who most of the time probably don't know I'm there but it makes no difference. Secondly I make a lot of noise myself, I talk, I pull faces, I stomp, when I get hold of an instrument I sing, you get the picture. Thirdly, I have two cats. There is a formula for cats and happiness, I with I could remember more about the Nth term, but it goes something like: 1st cat =100% rise in happiness, each subsequent cat = a rise in happiness equal to 50% of the rise in happiness cause by first cat. I'm not kidding, this is science! 

Actually it's just a working theory but I fully believe it and if anyone would like to contribute to my reasearch into cat happiness, I'd be happy for you to add to my collection of cats, I have an one of those **wishlists like couples getting married have, so make sure no 2 people get me the same cat (goodness wouldn't that be embarassing!) but I feel I have strayed off the point here, my point is, I have the best non human company available anywhere at home, it's luxary company. One keeps my lap warm while the other one shows me just the right level of indifference to ensure I don't forget I'm in the presence of GODS. (And I don't.) 

Today I woke up at seven having slept fitfully and didn't leave the house. I haven't seen a single person or heard a single voice other than the occasional clamour of voices from the street if I open the window. 

I read all day, a very disappointing and frustating book about a reasonably paranoid detective that mademe reasonably paranoid myself. All day I rook short breaks from my paranoia to reward myself with self loathing and pity and terse words inside my head ("All the way to New Zealand and you won't go out, of hell done"). I took a short break at mid day to write to the blog, and another slightly later to tear up while looking out of the window miserabley and wondering if there was any way I could find an excuse to fall out of it (turns out no, throwing myself from a window won't make me happy, my heart has wounds that can only be healed by the soft paws of kittens hint hint). 

At 6:15 I finished the (bloody stupid pretentious) book and considered going outside. The sun had mostly cooled, but there were clouds drawing besides so It was that gentle eveningy light. I decided to risk it. 

So I did, I went to the park for 15minutes. Then I had a stroke of realisation! Parks are not the same as wildlife reserves or museum gardens, they are not filled with kids on school trips, tourists and nerds like myself! No matter what a beautiful park it is, come early evening it will be dotted with groups of locals, youths and drunk men weeing. After the second man  weeing I decided this was not a museum garden, these people were not here to observe Kaka reeding stations or glimpse a rare Takahe, these people are socialising and unwinding. I was glad to have an excuse to leave the park, but my only other option seemed to be to walk the busy shopping streets or go back to ny room. I went back to my room having not actually heard anyone speaking english and realising I didn't know which was worse, the feeling of unchanging unease that I felt crammed in one room (with a huge floor to ceiling window I might add) all day, or feeling totally isolated outside in a big city. 

Tomorrow I hope I will go to the zoo, I may take a temazepam before bed and hope that just like wherever I stay, today was 'first day fever' (something I more or less get when I go anywhere that involves not wanting to go out.) It does seem to crop up at it's strongest when I have just arrived somewhere. (I remember my 2nd day in Wellington, it was overcast, I shook all day and went very early.) 

This day almost exactly mirrors my big day of epiphany in Stockholm when I couldn't go out, spent all day reading and eventually attempted to leave the appartment in the afternoon. It was -7 degrees and I just couldn't get further than a few steps out of the doorway. That was my second day too, I guess this is also. I have a natural talent for not leaving the house! 

If I had someone with me, I would have gone out today, I know this is true. People who see my travel alone ask why I didn't find someone to come with me. It seems a pretty ridiculous question to me and I never know how to answer it, almost like being asked why I don't grown money in my garden. I would probably answer both questions the same, 'is that possible?' 'Can people even do that?' 'I don't know how and wouldn't know where to start'. I am terrible at being lonely, but I don't know where on earth I would find a human person to drag around the world. I guess I could grow one in my garden, spring is on thw way. 

Anyway, my point is, I'm tired, hungry, lonely, a touch paranoid and a little sad. I don't like to stay in and act the recluse, it's a waste of opportunity, time, money, patience and my self respect which is wearing pretty thin. 

Fix me? 

*this is an in joke I have with my Mum, I couldn't resist, even if she doen't read it. 

**wishlist as follows. Subject to change. 

Burmese

Maine coon

Egyptian Mau

American curl 

LaPerm

Scottish Fold

Bengal

Savannah 

Devon rex

Cornish rex

Any old Moggie

Tiger

Last of all I should note the appalling book in question was 'In the Woods' by Tana French, It's a long time since I've read a book that goes downhill so fast and that ends with such a lack of resolution that I wanted to throw it out of my giant window! On top of that is was bluderingly obvious, patronising, pretentious and fruitless! Highly unreccomended. 

View from my huge window.