My Desperate Need for Solitude
I’m well adjusted socially. I’m comfortable speaking in front of large crowds. If I need to be the center of attention, I can handle that.
But sometimes, I just need to be alone.
More accurately, I would prefer to be alone most of the time. And if I had to get used to being alone all the time, I could.
What’s wrong with me?
This used to bother me a lot. I was sure there was something wrong with my brain or something I wasn’t doing right that made me uncomfortable in crowds and miserable when forced to introduce myself or converse with strangers.
I distinctly remember faking that I needed to use the bathroom routinely during school and religious classes because I just couldn’t stand being with everyone else anymore. I’d head into the stall and lock the door, then sit — fully clothed — on the toilet and just breathe until I felt like I could handle going back again.
As I got older, I figured out more subtle ways of excusing myself from the crowd and getting my needed alone time, and I guess I’d accepted it at that point as, maybe not normal, but at least normal for me.
But it wasn’t until I got the results of my Emergenetics assessment that I finally received confirmation that my borderline agoraphobia is not due to an inherent hatred of my fellow humans or any other social defect on my part. It’s simply the fact that my brain is wired in such a way that social interaction takes more energy for me than for others, so sometimes I need to get away and recharge my batteries.
What a relief
I can’t tell you how great it was to see in black-and-white that something I’d been worried about most of my life wasn’t a problem after all.
What’s more, the same wiring specifics that caused my “social fatigue” were also responsible for my limitless imagination and keen problem-solving skills, along with a host of other “superpowers” I’d never noticed as anything special.
In recent years, I’ve come to terms with my need for solitude and I’ve even grown to love it and seek it out by getting up extra early and maneuvering my working environment accordingly. I’ve also experimented with meditation and mindfulness as a means of enhancing the value of solitude. But it’s only now, heading into 2017, that I’m throwing myself into daily meditation each morning as part of my Welcoming the Day routine.
It’s an ongoing struggle
I’m fortunate to work from home where I can seek out solitude almost any time I need to. Of course, with two kids and a dog living inside the same four walls, it’s not always easy. Slowly but surely, the family is coming around, though.
My wife appreciates quiet, although she has no issue with social interaction. We instituted “Quiet Time” in the early evening back when the kids were tiny as an opportunity for her and I to have some adult conversation before we lost the battle with exhaustion for the night, and we still call “Quiet Time” now and then even though our kids are 15 and 16.
There are times I still run into when I’d prefer to be alone and it’s just not possible, or practical, or it’s not the right thing to do at that moment. And I need to deal, as hard as that may be. That’s where my focus is going to be throughout my 2017 optimization project when it comes to solitude: I’m going to ensure I have plenty of it available at times when I can, and I’m going to work hard on coping when it’s not possible.
Once again, balance in everything.
Do you need be alone sometimes? How do you cope when you can’t be? Let me know in the comments.
