Time to Myself
Content Warning: References to Suicide
In my roughly 30 years of life, I’ve never lived alone. The closest I’ve ever come was living in a little shack next to a house that had most of the utilities (a story for another time), but never completely alone. There have been a lot of reasons for this over the years, from cost to just getting weird when I’m alone for too long, but it was never something I was particularly concerned about.
And then I had my suicide incident. Funny how that can re-contextualize certain things in your life.
Since then, I’ve been pretty desperate not to live alone. The idea of living away from other people while still regularly experiencing invasive thoughts was never something I was excited about. Nor was living alone while still having issues with knives. I’ve managed to keep living with other people since then, but over the last few months I’ve noticed a few things about myself that have pushed me to try living alone for once.
First, I have a huge hang-up about being seen doing housework. When I was a kid my mom put a huge importance on cleaning, but I could never do what she wanted the way she wanted it. I always forgot something, or didn’t know to do something, or used the wrong cleaning agent… I don’t think there was ever a time when I was living with my parents, either as a kid or an adult, that I cleaned something the way she wanted me to. So I just started cleaning things when no one was watching. This was an issue in some places because there was ALWAYS someone in the common space, but more recently it was an issue because one of the roommates was a light sleeper. I tried to start cleaning during the day when people were around, but I never really got comfortable doing it.
Second, I need large spaces to feel comfortable. I don’t know where this one came from, if we’re being honest. I think it’s some form of claustrophobia? Small rooms feel off to me, like I don’t have enough space to put things and that I can’t really move around. Living in a small-ish apartment with 2 other people and a cat for the last 5 months (especially one populated with mostly their things and none of mine. Again, a story for another time) really stressed me the fuck out. Also my book-hoard needs to be on display, and they can’t do that from the boxes they’ve lived in for the last few months.
Obviously there are plenty of other things, but the problem with this stream of consciousness style of writing is that I completely blank halfway through a thought, and without notes I can’t go back to it. In any case, you get the idea, I’m to the point now where I need to live alone to be comfortable. And again, I have a lot of concerns about that. I don’t really go out often, so I likely won’t interact with people for long periods of time. And of course I’ll be concerned about the invasive thoughts and the knife-issues.
But I’m tentatively excited about it. I actually just moved into a little studio apartment, and its pretty alright. Having a fridge to myself is kinda nice. And not having to worry about upsetting anyone (besides neighbors, but that’s always a concern) is pretty freeing. I need some more (and better) furniture, but even so with what I have now this place is pretty cozy. So we’ll see. The only real ‘scares’ I’ve had so far have all involved knives (go figure). I found out the knife block I bought had one spare knife that didn’t fit into it. Just seeing that knife lying around, even for a minute or so, without anywhere for it to comfortable go… it was more unsettling than I expected it to be. Luckily, I gave that knife away to some friends who were understanding. And then this morning I had a moment when I realized how sharp the new knives were while cutting some pork that made me uncomfortable.
But I think I’ll be alright.
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AJ
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Tyler Litton
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Thaddius Goldner
William Moton
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