11.11.25 It’s a very quiet dark morning, not as still as the last couple of days. I can hear wind and rain. I like that. The stillness in the quiet can be a reminder that it’s just me here. All on my lonesome. I always tell myself, I am not lonely. I live alone.
The Difference Between Loneliness and Solitude
There is a difference. I’m kidding myself though. Sometimes. Certainly not mostly, but sometimes I am lonely. It’s a sharp aching loneliness that hits suddenly and it takes me a while to see it for what it is. After my meltdown yesterday, I sat and reflected, getting in touch with my intuition.
I’d surprised myself with the intensity of my emotions yesterday. I don’t really cry anymore. I had so many crying years. Hormones will do that to you, compounded by complex unprocessed trauma—a barrel of laughs this morning. I am. No, I’m actually smiling wryly right now. Loneliness versus Solitude. I’ve rationalised about this a lot.
I recognise the dilemma. I like my own company. I can get drained by too much company. And I’ve ingrained the conscious retreat I entered into two years ago, into my mind and body.
That started back a bit longer ago, not in earnest, but the catalyst to the start of the process. I was one of those odd people who were suited to Covid—a perfect, ready-made excuse to avoid social contact. That’s when I’d first started thinking I was maybe an introvert. Thank you, Miranda Hart, for introducing me to the introvert battery theory. It made everything very clear to me. We’re told that we’re not designed to be alone, us humans. I think the general consensus is we need to socialise to thrive, and I do socialise. Just about enough, hopefully.
The Micro-Moment That Shifted My Perspective
In my reflective moment yesterday, sitting myself down for a good listening to, followed by a good talking to, I realised a few things. There had been a couple of triggers. One, I can’t really talk about, but another one was a simple gesture. I had something on my face, I don’t know what, but I horribly think it was probably a piece of flaky skin that hadn’t come off after moisturising, before I put my foundation on. Might have been a crumb though.
Anyway, my friend leaned over and said, “You’ve got something,” and then just leaned over and brushed it away. Just a few seconds, but the world stopped for a moment, like in a movie where everything around the character in the frame blurs into a white fuzziness.
When you haven’t had human touch for a while, or any physical tenderness that’s not ‘amazing hugs from your family,’ it had a big impact on me. It wasn’t the act of being touched for a microsecond. It was the reminder of the absence of being touched. Somehow my loneliness, which I argue myself out of with logic and rationality, laid me bare.
Crochet: My Ever-Faithful Companion
Crochet is my love. My companion. My ever faithful. Its power to deliver unfailingly—to calm my mind, bring me rhythm and colour and interaction between body, mind, and something external—never fails to amaze me. It hugs me and envelops me and I could never be without it. Crochet fills a void for me.
Well, almost. There must be a little space that’s left that wants to be filled by something else, or someone else. Crochet does a great job of absorbing me so I don’t dwell on these thoughts though. Moments, like the inconsequential, fleeting touch of the other day, are rare. At least, making that connection, so that the seemingly inconsequential takes on significance and I recognise it, is rare.
I think, going back to crochet, it’s why I have so many WIPs. (That’s ‘work in progress.’ ) When I need to, I can switch focus to the excitement of starting a new project, the initial rush of looking through favourited patterns, visiting crochet sites, looking through my stash. That point of the whole crochet process never fails to fill me to the point of total absorption. Any other thoughts fade into the distance. Distraction achieved, job done. Down the doom rabbit hole I have not gone.
Crochet, my faithful, adorable love I can spend a lot of time with. Thank goodness, I found you and filled my life with you.
Tarot Reflection: The Magician Reversed
Today’s card is the Magician Reversed.
- Liz Dean: says: “dreams without foundation, self-delusion.”
- Sarah Bartlett says: “listen to your inner voice and practise what you preach.”
- Tina Gong says: “remember your purpose and simplify your approach.”
I won’t reproduce the entire Tina Gong interpretation here (I do however highly recommend her book—it’s my absolute favourite tarot book I’ve ever had). Just to say, her words have really rung true with me today and given me food for thought for further reflection.
Meltdown as Necessary Clearing
Yesterday was a really difficult day. Looking back and spending time reflecting, a meltdown was inevitable. I had an inkling. I’d kept telling myself to slow down. I knew I’d been doing too much. I’d even cleared the path to take a break this week, hoping that would be enough. Maybe it was. Actually having a meltdown isn’t a bad thing but a necessary thing. It’s like taking an axe to the brambles that have sprung up everywhere, destructively, aggressively blocking the path. Even the vicious brambles bare the sweetest fruit though.
It’s intense, it’s hardcore, it’s heavy, cutting through, but it gets the job done. I can see where I’m going again. I can see where I make changes in my approach to make this all work for me:
- The business building: Think of it as a hobby with a website.
- The journalling: Reclaim the therapeutic process and share only what I want to and edit! heavily!
- Address or accept loneliness? Well, that’s a work in progress. WIP, WIP, no current solution available, but I’m okay. There are countless new projects to get lost in when needed.
- My current physical health… well, that is what it is, and sometimes even with the best habits, best mindset, it’s going to inevitably get to me sometimes.
I’m not Superwoman or anything remotely approaching that. Remind myself I have superpowers though: acceptance, gratitude, and crochet to name just three. Family, friends, the trees, the birds, and coffee. Plus a bountiful yarn stash! What more could a super fibro, nerdy, geeky, neurospicy, menopausal loner want!