What I learnt from living by myself for six months (or How to make the most of your own solitude)
As recent global events are leading us to pursue more and more isolated lives at the moment, I thought I would share my own experiences about living by myself. Some of these may apply to you and help put things in perspective.
About six months ago, I decided to drop everything (work, most of my belongings, virtually my life back home) and move to Newtown, Sydney. It was a quick process, like tearing off a band-aid. I was in the city one day and saw an apartment. That night I was signing the lease. Within a few short days I was living there amid boxes of books and half-constructed furniture.
The reality of it all — this supreme solitude — hit me as one of my mates left to head home that night.
I remember sitting in my apartment (I only had an inflatable mattress then) and thinking Shit, is this it? For the first time in my life I was by myself. I had no help for hours, virtually alone in a city where I knew next to no one.
And it was so liberating.
I looked around at the boxes and stuff I had. I put on a record and began to decorate. I didn’t know it at the time, but I also began to slowly chip away at some old beliefs I had been holding for a while.
