One thing I’ve realized this year is that I have done the majority of my processing by myself.
I’m not feeling sorry for myself around it – just thinking about it.
I have some really amazing friends. I have people available, if and when I call on them. There have definitely been occasions when I have shown up on doorsteps in tears, but more often than not, I have dealt with the bulk of this on my own.
Usually I am more dependent on others, more in need of hashing out every detail and getting affirmation from anyone and everyone who was willing to listen, more in want of advice and guidance from those around me.
But not so much this time.
Maybe because the way it all played out felt enough like middle school that I was didn’t want to create more of it. Maybe it’s because I felt alienated from an entire group of friends. Maybe it’s because I’m embarrassed by all of the drama. Maybe because I figure that everyone is sick to death of listening to me. Maybe because I understand that other people also have hard stuff in their worlds and I didn’t necessarily want to be my narcissistic self when others needed support. Maybe I imagined that no one could understand the absolute insanity of all that was happening.
I leaned on different people for different reasons: different pieces of the drama: like the friend whose son is also a felon or the friend who has offered spiritual guidance to help me remain standing.
I’ve written about it, receiving support from my readers, but so much of what has happened I kept under wraps in my writing because it hasn’t been appropriate to make some things public.
And things kept under wraps are things that I process alone.
It doesn’t matter why or why not. What matters is how I’ve done this.
Has it been good for me?
That’s the main question here.
Has it made me stronger or is it that I haven’t fully dealt with my shit?
I live alone. I do most things alone. I go to the desert alone. I don’t talk on the phone.
I am absolutely a classic introvert but I hate saying that because suddenly it’s hip to be socially awkward and avoid people.
I spent most of the year hiding out – avoiding the possibility of running into anyone that I might not want to encounter.
I feel like my trips to Utah have been the saving grace but maybe it’s been a really unhealthy way of isolating myself?
Because sometimes I am really lonely.
But I might be just as lonely if I had leaned on 50 of my best friends every day all year long.
And now I hesitate to reach out because if I am sick and tired of my world of shit, I can’t imagine how sick and tired of it other people are.
I like to think that it’s been really good for me to stand on my own.
I’m at the rambling point now so I’ll stop.
And most likely pack up the truck and head west.