I want to talk about something that has been on my mind recently so I hope you oblige me.
I am a lucky person in that I have a great group of friends and a wonderful family, but lately I have felt what certainly feels like loneliness. At this time of year people are busy doing stuff so I am not seeing the people I love as often as I would like; add to that living alone now and I have started feeling pretty redundant.
As desperate as I am to keep out the hideous paranoia that my friends don’t care about me any more, it does creep in on the darker days. The thing is that I am okay if I am being productive. If I have an arty project for example. So is this really loneliness or just boredom?.
When I think of it logically I am quite content sitting in front of Golden Girls re-runs while doodling in my sketchbook, I think the issue is when days like these turn into weeks without actually seeing anyone outside my flat.
I could pop out for a walk or nip to the shops for a little respite from the ennui but I tend not to. This is a mixture of anxiety, idleness and not wanting to put on a bra. You see there really isn’t any need to be stuck inside every day, it is something I choose and then before I head to bed each night I regret and worry about it. A horrible cycle I suppose.
I expect that any body reading this will have little sympathy for me when I am not actively trying to do something about it, but I certainly don’t think I am alone in feeling this way; and as always, I like to talk about the ugly parts of chronic mental illness that aren’t talked about all that much.
Don’t get me wrong, some days I can overcome the invisible issues standing in my way and make it out for a stroll around my village, but a large percentage of the time you will find me pottering around my flat trying to be productive.
Hope you are well,