Why am I feeling so lost and discombobulated? Is this how it’s meant to feel when you meet a person you are attracted to and enjoy spending time with? Because if so, I think there may be a terrible flaw in the way our emotions develop and someone needs to say something about it.
I feel excited, scared, distrustful, happy, beautiful, anxious, exhausted, nostalgic, uncertain, protective and confused. In equal parts.
I mean seriously. How is that a positive combination?
I’ve lost 3 kilos and I haven’t been to the gym in weeks. My room is a mess, I've got almost no clean underwear, I haven’t changed my bed linen and my dogs have forgotten what the park looks like. My parents are permanently annoyed with my lack of communication, my housemate is pretty much living alone, I have done no work on either of the theatre projects I had in planning, and I spend my work days writing about and reading up on things completely unrelated to work. I am, in a word, distracted.
And the most disturbing thing is that it’s gotten increasingly worse until today my head has screamed with the hurtful thought, “What am I doing?” and my instinct is to cut and run before I lose the wonderful relationship I’ve cultivated with myself over the last 3 years. But then what is the purpose of life if not to love and what will my life be if I forever run from that?
Well, peaceful for one. And lonely. Productive. Focused. Centred. And safe. Safe.
Safe.
That's it isn’t it? Safety.
Predictability and equilibrium. Things I have chased my whole life and will continue to chase because that’s the legacy left by my childhood. But with that emotional security comes self-doubt, and longing, and nights curled up in bed with a Kelpie and an old teddy bear wondering what might have been had I not made the choice to live my life alone. Because I had made that choice. Whole-heartedly. And now the chipping away at my resolve is something terrifying and disorientating. And I long for my boring solo existence when emotions were rational and linear and my own company didn’t feel like there was someone missing from it.
So.
4 comments:
Thanks for your thoughts, Girl x
I know some women, my mothers friends, who have what I call 'Single Woman Syndrome'. There is a point where clear-headedness turns compulsive. These woman, although kind, generous, ambitious, smart....many wonderful positive things, have lost the fluidity required to operate in a partnership. They are so used to fulfilling their own needs that they are unable to relinquish that power to another. If they do allow a friend to plan for them, give to them, they are angry if the results disappoint.
I wish I could describe the 'syndrome' more clearly. They are the kind of person who always choses the restaurant. Or they offer you the false perception that you have the choice, ask you your preferences and then spend the next 30 mins persuading you that your choice is not as good as their original choice.
As a long-term single, I fear I am coming down with this syndrome myself. All I can say to your current state of distraction is to embrace it. Embrace it for all of us that may become so good at cleaning our own rooms and buying our own dinners, that we never allow another to pick up our distracted pieces.
Wow, you've managed to sum up my recent existing in this post. Thank you.
I have also just come from a period of singledom and more recently shifting into a lovely period of new love. I feel confused and distracted too, sometimes I can't remember what I was doing the night previous unless I check my phone and replay my existence via iCal prompts.
I remember during my singledom the strength of my resolve when planning my social calendar. The freedom to talk, play, and plan with whomever I want. I also feel that this will need to be augmented now that theres a person around.
I remember the hopeful nature of meeting new people, the 'what if they're exactly who I've been waiting for' response when a cute one seemed to also have an IQ above her calorific-intake.
As much as you can tend to lock-in a single existence, I believe we're all surreptitiously hoping to find someone who transcends the 'nice/cute/hot people I met at parties' into something a little more primal. And despite the scary, theres the promise.
Which offsets which?
I remember feeling perhaps I was destined for a single life. The people I was meeting/dating where new personalities to be tried and tested, but never stacked up. So after a while I took it easy on myself and actively sought a few girl-friends (not girlfriends) who I could talk with, share with, and laugh with. It was with one of these girl-friends one particular night I remember thinking that at eighty I'd be happy to live an existence whereby I was solo and these friends would sated my requirements for love and affection.
Ironically, the girl-friend I was with that night, is now my girlfriend (tm).
I remember the freedom to plan careery things, to have hours upon hours to create, to jot, ingest, play music. My music became sacred. Therapy. A documentation of what I'd experienced and what I wanted for myself in my heart and soul. A muse to understand my plight. I thank the universe for this gift.
I remember the exciting vicarious existence my coupled friends projected onto me. Who is he seeing? Do we approve? He deserves it! Go him. Even though they're the ones retiring to a loved-up and duplicitous life, something I remember fondly from previous relationships.
New relationships are scary. Especially when they're good. If I wasn't so into this girl I'd feel so much safer. I'd probably continue blindly living the life described above. I'd feel sated, and I'd be having fun, and I'd turn up to things on time, and I wouldn't piss off my friends, and I'd be focussed on careery things. I'd be efficient, and rational, and calm.
I'd still spend nights home alone, wishing there was someone warming the bed next to me, making me laugh, making me feel like I'm a capable of things to be proud of. Someone to cheer for. Someone to trust. Someone to love.
Probably someone like you. Actually.
I wish I could take you out for a cup of coffee.
I imagine a conversation of high quality would ensue.
I call it, "Detached."
Here I am, a man in his prime. The only thing I feel I lack the most is the thing I fear the most. Companionship.
The few times I've put myself 'out there' over short passing months, I've found no companionship. No one to hold my hand.
In one of my fleeting breaths, you'll hear a sigh of sadness and a sigh of relief intertwined in a queer duality.
The first part expressing my fear of being alone. The second, my fear of boxes. My fear of any sort of tether. Anchor.
As an actor, I prefer to live 'unchecked.' Free to move about, uninterrupted.
The duality of man is his greatest weakness.
The duality of an actor is his greatest strength.
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