hiding from the world
Feb. 2nd, 2022 02:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
howsmyenglishI'm writing this mainly in order to help myself feel alive. For some reason, a reason I didn't seriously try to look for yet, whenever my husband goes away, I turn into a zombie. This does not mean that... no, why would I list all the things this doesn't mean, let me try and say what it does mean! I'm quite introverted and I always crave alone time. My husband is introverted, too, so he understands. He is far less introverted, though, and he is naturally a very positive person, which makes him a very good partner for me, because I am extremely suggestible and since I'm naturally not very positive, it really does me good to be around people suggesting positivity to me. Does this make sense? It does to me, at least.
So... whenever there is a possibility of him going away - on work related things usually - I secretly am looking forward to it, because of being introverted. On the other hand... whenever he does go away I spend some days in a state between life and inertia. There are always reasons that make it sound plausible - like, when he packs his stuff before going away, he usually stresses me out a lot. I like to do everything on my own and in good time, he does everything last minute and he needs to consult me on every little thing. When he packs, I pack with him, I have to stop doing whatever I'm doing and concentrate on him. And since he does everything in the last minute, I'm feeling stressed out. So, I usually need time to recuperate after he leaves. But... I don't think this is the main reason for my sudden falling-out-of-life when he leaves. Anyway. I'm here to record the last few days.
I'm actually having to look at the calendar in order to see what day it is today and how many days ago he left. So. It's Wednesday. He left in the night between Saturday and Sunday. This time, his leaving was more dramatic for me than usual, because there was no public transport to the airport, and we needed to drive there. Which means, I needed to drive back home. The thing is that I never drove on a highway for more than five minutes before, and those five minutes also only happened about five times, and years ago. So, the thought of a drive on a highway alone at night did make me feel quite panicky. The good thing is that I firmly believe in the need to overcome my fears, and I do have a keen sense of adventure, so the panic was not alone, it had excitement and curiosity for company. And also some sort of dark romanticism - the idea of being alone on a highway at night, listening to music, you know? You might need to stop. How many times have you seen this in a movie? Anything could happen! So, yes, a lot of unusual feelings.
To add to it, when we were nearly at the airport, we realized that we forgot my husband's winter coat at home. And he was flying to Switzerland. There was no time to return for it: we live one and a half hours away from the airport, he'd never had made it back in time. So, at three thirty in the morning, he went into the airport shivering with anticipation, and I stayed in the car trembling with terror. After some more trembling (called, for convenience, "waiting for him to tell me that he managed to check in") I decided there was nothing for it and started to drive. It was fun! I mean. It was not easy, I was scared, tired and lost at times, but I like new sensations and experiences, so it was even fun to be scared and to find out how I deal with it. I screamed my favorite Tibetan Buddhist mantra for the first fifteen minutes and only stopped when I realized that it made me feel way too thirsty. I then realized I was not afraid of speed, I was only afraid of other cars, and there really weren't that many around at that hour. So, I was fine. I returned home shortly after five in the morning, drank a lot of sparkly water, had a whisky, read a few pages of a - probably - quite terrible book,* and went to sleep.
Now, of course, the next day had to be kind of muddled: I slept until around... twelve? - less than I had expected, so I resembled a sleepwalker quite a lot. I was prepared for that. All I did that day was watching some old films on my laptop, which I dragged around with me, while tidying, cleaning the bathroom, washing and hanging laundry to dry. That's all I'm good for when I haven't had enough sleep. But I did plan to start living the next day (Monday).
I slept badly. I kept thinking my cat was trying to wake me, because it wanted out. Once I even jumped out of bed and ran to the door - only to see that the cat was nowhere to be seen. In the end, I got up earlier than I wanted, not really refreshed, not really full of vigor. But I wanted to make the best of it. I thought I should use my husband's absence to cook and eat stuff I like and he doesn't. So I went shopping. When I came home I realized that my period had started and I had to drop my plans to go to the sauna that day - the last day it was open before a one-and-a-half-month break. That was a bummer. But oh well. I thought, that's fine. I'll have a bathtub party instead. I spent the rest of the day cooking, continuing to watch old films and knitting. Had a work-related chat with a colleague. I don't remember anything else... But I did light the fire! That's something that makes me come out of my shell. Inside it I only need a very small space in which I curl up and hide from the world.** Lighting the fire is a statement. I'm here. I'm alive.
The next night was a nightmare. Having a period is rarely fun, but this time was truly exceptional. I hope. I kept waking up with pain, taking pills and trying to get back to sleep, only to realize that the pills either didn't help enough or didn't help at all. I had a work-related zoom meeting in the morning, but I ended up cancelling it, because I simply could not get up. I spent about two hours in bed moaning with pain and for some reason nausea, then pulled myself together, got up and took the strongest acceptable painkiller I had, and it finally helped me to fall asleep at around 11 am. I stayed in bed until three. I could barely move even afterwards, so it was really great that I did all that cooking on Monday. I spent the day yesterday re-watching Ally McBeal episodes. Mostly. Did not light the fire. Read my comfort book number one for nearly two hours before going to sleep at two. Tried to decide on a plan of action for today, but nearly got depressed finding out that I wasn't able to commit to any action.
And then today came. I was hoping there would be sun. I was hoping I would go out for a bit at least. But the sun wasn't really warm, and my stomach is still feeling weird, and I'm not feeling up to dressing, so here I am writing about it all. I mean... there are quite legitimate reasons for this inertia, aren't there? But was gets me down is that there always are. Every time my husband leaves I get into this state of only half a human being for several days and it takes time and effort to come out of it. Why? Is this because I lose the suggestive factor and it takes time to find my own rhythm? I really don't feel well when I have this need to hide from the world, when my mere existence is something shameful, when I hide behind a wall or beneath my table - literally - when someone passes my window.
* The book, well... I might come back to it later, when I write about books...
** My husband gave me a T-shirt once, it says "but I don't want to go outside, there are people out there". We often make fun about it being so very me. But somehow I think even he has no idea, how much it is me.
Well, anyhow. Consider this post an act of communication with the world. I am in hiding, but I'm reaching out a few sentences. I do plan to light the fire tonight. And I'll try and work some. Good thing there is reading I need to do. It's so easy to read and you still get the satisfaction of having worked afterwards.
So... whenever there is a possibility of him going away - on work related things usually - I secretly am looking forward to it, because of being introverted. On the other hand... whenever he does go away I spend some days in a state between life and inertia. There are always reasons that make it sound plausible - like, when he packs his stuff before going away, he usually stresses me out a lot. I like to do everything on my own and in good time, he does everything last minute and he needs to consult me on every little thing. When he packs, I pack with him, I have to stop doing whatever I'm doing and concentrate on him. And since he does everything in the last minute, I'm feeling stressed out. So, I usually need time to recuperate after he leaves. But... I don't think this is the main reason for my sudden falling-out-of-life when he leaves. Anyway. I'm here to record the last few days.
I'm actually having to look at the calendar in order to see what day it is today and how many days ago he left. So. It's Wednesday. He left in the night between Saturday and Sunday. This time, his leaving was more dramatic for me than usual, because there was no public transport to the airport, and we needed to drive there. Which means, I needed to drive back home. The thing is that I never drove on a highway for more than five minutes before, and those five minutes also only happened about five times, and years ago. So, the thought of a drive on a highway alone at night did make me feel quite panicky. The good thing is that I firmly believe in the need to overcome my fears, and I do have a keen sense of adventure, so the panic was not alone, it had excitement and curiosity for company. And also some sort of dark romanticism - the idea of being alone on a highway at night, listening to music, you know? You might need to stop. How many times have you seen this in a movie? Anything could happen! So, yes, a lot of unusual feelings.
To add to it, when we were nearly at the airport, we realized that we forgot my husband's winter coat at home. And he was flying to Switzerland. There was no time to return for it: we live one and a half hours away from the airport, he'd never had made it back in time. So, at three thirty in the morning, he went into the airport shivering with anticipation, and I stayed in the car trembling with terror. After some more trembling (called, for convenience, "waiting for him to tell me that he managed to check in") I decided there was nothing for it and started to drive. It was fun! I mean. It was not easy, I was scared, tired and lost at times, but I like new sensations and experiences, so it was even fun to be scared and to find out how I deal with it. I screamed my favorite Tibetan Buddhist mantra for the first fifteen minutes and only stopped when I realized that it made me feel way too thirsty. I then realized I was not afraid of speed, I was only afraid of other cars, and there really weren't that many around at that hour. So, I was fine. I returned home shortly after five in the morning, drank a lot of sparkly water, had a whisky, read a few pages of a - probably - quite terrible book,* and went to sleep.
Now, of course, the next day had to be kind of muddled: I slept until around... twelve? - less than I had expected, so I resembled a sleepwalker quite a lot. I was prepared for that. All I did that day was watching some old films on my laptop, which I dragged around with me, while tidying, cleaning the bathroom, washing and hanging laundry to dry. That's all I'm good for when I haven't had enough sleep. But I did plan to start living the next day (Monday).
I slept badly. I kept thinking my cat was trying to wake me, because it wanted out. Once I even jumped out of bed and ran to the door - only to see that the cat was nowhere to be seen. In the end, I got up earlier than I wanted, not really refreshed, not really full of vigor. But I wanted to make the best of it. I thought I should use my husband's absence to cook and eat stuff I like and he doesn't. So I went shopping. When I came home I realized that my period had started and I had to drop my plans to go to the sauna that day - the last day it was open before a one-and-a-half-month break. That was a bummer. But oh well. I thought, that's fine. I'll have a bathtub party instead. I spent the rest of the day cooking, continuing to watch old films and knitting. Had a work-related chat with a colleague. I don't remember anything else... But I did light the fire! That's something that makes me come out of my shell. Inside it I only need a very small space in which I curl up and hide from the world.** Lighting the fire is a statement. I'm here. I'm alive.
The next night was a nightmare. Having a period is rarely fun, but this time was truly exceptional. I hope. I kept waking up with pain, taking pills and trying to get back to sleep, only to realize that the pills either didn't help enough or didn't help at all. I had a work-related zoom meeting in the morning, but I ended up cancelling it, because I simply could not get up. I spent about two hours in bed moaning with pain and for some reason nausea, then pulled myself together, got up and took the strongest acceptable painkiller I had, and it finally helped me to fall asleep at around 11 am. I stayed in bed until three. I could barely move even afterwards, so it was really great that I did all that cooking on Monday. I spent the day yesterday re-watching Ally McBeal episodes. Mostly. Did not light the fire. Read my comfort book number one for nearly two hours before going to sleep at two. Tried to decide on a plan of action for today, but nearly got depressed finding out that I wasn't able to commit to any action.
And then today came. I was hoping there would be sun. I was hoping I would go out for a bit at least. But the sun wasn't really warm, and my stomach is still feeling weird, and I'm not feeling up to dressing, so here I am writing about it all. I mean... there are quite legitimate reasons for this inertia, aren't there? But was gets me down is that there always are. Every time my husband leaves I get into this state of only half a human being for several days and it takes time and effort to come out of it. Why? Is this because I lose the suggestive factor and it takes time to find my own rhythm? I really don't feel well when I have this need to hide from the world, when my mere existence is something shameful, when I hide behind a wall or beneath my table - literally - when someone passes my window.
* The book, well... I might come back to it later, when I write about books...
** My husband gave me a T-shirt once, it says "but I don't want to go outside, there are people out there". We often make fun about it being so very me. But somehow I think even he has no idea, how much it is me.
Well, anyhow. Consider this post an act of communication with the world. I am in hiding, but I'm reaching out a few sentences. I do plan to light the fire tonight. And I'll try and work some. Good thing there is reading I need to do. It's so easy to read and you still get the satisfaction of having worked afterwards.
no subject
Date: 2022-02-02 04:54 pm (UTC)I came across a t-shirt that I tried to get for my wife but they didn't have her size. It said, "You've read my shirt, I think that's enough social interaction for today."
no subject
Date: 2022-02-02 11:13 pm (UTC)I'm proud of you for driving home! It sounds like you've never driven that far on the highway ever? I hate driving on the highway...I do it every day to get to work, but I hate it. And yeah, the other cars are what is really the worst.
no subject
Date: 2022-02-02 11:54 pm (UTC)And yes, hormones probably did contribute to this inertia quite a bit. I plan to try and notice what will contribute to it the next time I stay alone, though... By the way, now I think about it, it doesn't happen only when I'm at home, it also in a way happens when I myself go away - alone... This is something to think about...
no subject
Date: 2022-02-04 12:24 am (UTC)I have to applaud you for driving the highway, at night! Those are two factors that fill me with a lot of anxiety/fear as well, so I can understand what an accomplishment it was to get through it safely. Also how it feeds that sense of adventure to conquer it. Good on you! : )
no subject
Date: 2022-02-04 01:04 pm (UTC)Thanks! I must admit, I'm quite pleased with myself, too :D
My husband is supposed to leave for several months this year - some time in March, probably. I'll try and use that time to see whether the theory of "needing time to find my own rhythm" works or whether I fall back into negativity on impulse... I never actually tried to consciously address this.
no subject
Date: 2022-02-04 01:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-02-04 01:06 pm (UTC)Thank you for commenting. It helps, you know? When people don't comment, I feel like I might come across as too much of a weirdo... and that doesn't help at all.
no subject
Date: 2022-02-07 01:22 pm (UTC)Living alone part time is different to living alone all the time but it is still good that you can.
no subject
Date: 2022-02-13 10:36 am (UTC)Thank you! This is mutual!