I wrote this in my journal tonight. It's looooong, so consider yourselves warned. 
********************************************************
You remind me I live in a shell,
Safe from the past, and doing okay,
but not very well.
No jolts, no surprises
No crisis arises,
My life goes along as it should
It's all very nice, but not very good.
And I'm ready to take a chance again,
Ready to put my love on the line with you
Been living with nothing to show for it,
You get what you get when you go for it
And I'm ready to take a chance again with you.
- Ready to Take a Chance Again, Barry Manilow
A few days ago I had the disturbing realization that my life at this point can be summed up by the Barry Manilow song "Ready to Take a Chance Again." This realization was disturbing on two levels: 1). that I've been playing it dull and safe with my life, my choices, my decisions for too long, and 2). that it's a Barry Manilow song that best describes my current state of affairs.
It hit me a few weeks ago that my life no longer fits me. I've changed a great deal internally in the past year, while my external circumstances haven't changed a bit, and the differences between the two are really beginning to chafe. I moved out here to the sticks and began working from home about three years ago, and at the time it was the perfect situation for me. My marriage was a train wreck in progress, my depression was unchecked and growing, and I really wanted nothing to do with other humans at all. Then a few months later my marriage crumbled completely, and my home truly became my sanctuary, myself a hermit safe within its walls. I resented intrusions of any kind - the phone, e-mails, people stopping by.... I wanted none of it. I just wanted to be left in blessed peace. I wanted to feel safe. I wanted to be alone.
I poured every drop of my mental energy into my work, my emotional energy channeled towards caring for my pets. I routinely worked 12 hour days, and weekends, and that worked well for me at the time. I progressed quickly at my company, and I didn't have time to think about what was next, or where I was headed. Most free time was spent watching mindless television, re-reading old books, or sleeping. Days would go by without me ever seeing another human, and I'd wonder idly if it was healthy for me to feel so good about that. Nothing was new, exciting and fun no longer words in my vocabulary.
Anyway. You get the picture - I was hiding from my life. My life at that point was an even sadder (albeit much better) song:
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armor
Hiding in my room,
Safe within my womb
I touch no one and no one touches me
I am a rock,
I am an island.
No more, though. I've turned a corner in my soul and am no longer satisfied with this safe, predictable, isolated life I've crafted for myself. I am restless, and like the bosomy heroine of a bad period romance novel, I yearn. I yearn for interaction, for stimulation. No, wait - I crave - there, that's a better verb for a fat girl, crave. So here I stand, on the verge of re-entering society, but not quite sure where to start. What do I do? Who do I call? Where do I go?
See, I lost most of my friends during my self-imposed exile - really, none but three remain: my best friend Beth, in Oregon, who thankfully refuses to give up on me, no matter how churlish and non-responsive I am, and Dawn & Rob, a married couple who live nearby, whose geographical proximity is the main reason I was unable to push them away (not even an expert hermit can fend off the dreaded "drop by"). I am very lucky to still count them as my friends, in spite of my poor behavior. So I know what I need to do - try to make amends with the friends who've meant the most to me, and (gulp) make new friends, the latter of which is certainly easier said than done. I'm fairly certain I'm the only unmarried person over 25 here in my tiny little town. Even the fifty-something owner of the feed store, who was (and still is, I maintain) thoroughly besotted with me, got married last fall. There is nothing wrong with married people, of course - but around here marriage seems to be the defining element of one's social life (or lack thereof), and most activities are couple or family-oriented.
My second, and related, challenge is that I now live about eleventy bajillion miles away from society. My little town is adorable, but there's precious little to do here. I hate that I live so far away from the things that I like to do. I'm not ready to move, not yet - my pets are happy here, and I don't want to move somewhere with less privacy and room - but I won't rule it out for the future, not at all. In fact, I'd say it's pretty likely. But in the meantime I'm going to have to just suck it up and make the long car trip to wherever the action is.
My third challenge is that I actually kind of have no idea what I want to do. I'm not even sure what I like to do anymore, and I'd like to discover new things that I enjoy. I used to enjoy singing in public -- do I still? I don't know, I haven't done it in so long. I loved being in my comedy troupe, but that was ten years ago - am I still that funny and daring? I used to enjoy cooking -- do I now? Let's see, stove has been broken for over a year, with no plans to repair or replace it, so....nope. Okay, so cross cooking off the list. I don't know where to start, in terms of activities.
So really, it's simple: I need to make friends, move closer to a city, and find activities that enrich my life. Yeah. That's not overwhelming at ALL. And see, this is my thing - I get all keyed up for things, with no real feasible plan of action, then I get overwhelmed and lose momentum and interest, and ultimately give up. I'm determined to not allow that to happen this time, so I've already decided that it's all about baby steps. One day at a time, finding my way and rediscovering myself as I go.
Yesterday was a banner day. I got up in the morning and thought to myself, "What would I like to do today?" "Play pool," I thought instantly. So I got all prettified (as any self-respecting pool hall babe should), and took the long trek to the pool hall, where I proceeded to have a great time playing pool by myself, and then with some guy who offered to give me some pointers (and yes, he was hitting on me, but he gave me some good pointers, so whatever, god bless).
Afterwards I went to the paint-your-own-pottery-store owned by my friends Jackie and Andrea, both victims of my friendship embargo. I steeled myself before walking in, not sure what their reaction to me would be. I shouldn't have worried. Their eyes lit up when they saw me, they engulfed me in hugs, and they actually cried, they were so happy to see me (of course this just made me feel like even more of a shit, but still, it was well worth it). I tried to apologize to them, but they'd have none of it -- "All that matters is that you're here now," they said. It felt so good to be with friends again, laughing and catching up. I just grinned all the way home. And hey, I painted a lightswitch cover while I was there, and it turns out I still like doing that, too.
So let's rack up my score for yesterday: Played pool, reconciled with two friends, and confirmed that I still enjoy painting unfinished pottery. Quite a day for a hermit.
A recovering hermit, that is.
********************************************************
You remind me I live in a shell,
Safe from the past, and doing okay,
but not very well.
No jolts, no surprises
No crisis arises,
My life goes along as it should
It's all very nice, but not very good.
And I'm ready to take a chance again,
Ready to put my love on the line with you
Been living with nothing to show for it,
You get what you get when you go for it
And I'm ready to take a chance again with you.
- Ready to Take a Chance Again, Barry Manilow
A few days ago I had the disturbing realization that my life at this point can be summed up by the Barry Manilow song "Ready to Take a Chance Again." This realization was disturbing on two levels: 1). that I've been playing it dull and safe with my life, my choices, my decisions for too long, and 2). that it's a Barry Manilow song that best describes my current state of affairs.
It hit me a few weeks ago that my life no longer fits me. I've changed a great deal internally in the past year, while my external circumstances haven't changed a bit, and the differences between the two are really beginning to chafe. I moved out here to the sticks and began working from home about three years ago, and at the time it was the perfect situation for me. My marriage was a train wreck in progress, my depression was unchecked and growing, and I really wanted nothing to do with other humans at all. Then a few months later my marriage crumbled completely, and my home truly became my sanctuary, myself a hermit safe within its walls. I resented intrusions of any kind - the phone, e-mails, people stopping by.... I wanted none of it. I just wanted to be left in blessed peace. I wanted to feel safe. I wanted to be alone.
I poured every drop of my mental energy into my work, my emotional energy channeled towards caring for my pets. I routinely worked 12 hour days, and weekends, and that worked well for me at the time. I progressed quickly at my company, and I didn't have time to think about what was next, or where I was headed. Most free time was spent watching mindless television, re-reading old books, or sleeping. Days would go by without me ever seeing another human, and I'd wonder idly if it was healthy for me to feel so good about that. Nothing was new, exciting and fun no longer words in my vocabulary.
Anyway. You get the picture - I was hiding from my life. My life at that point was an even sadder (albeit much better) song:
I have my books
And my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armor
Hiding in my room,
Safe within my womb
I touch no one and no one touches me
I am a rock,
I am an island.
No more, though. I've turned a corner in my soul and am no longer satisfied with this safe, predictable, isolated life I've crafted for myself. I am restless, and like the bosomy heroine of a bad period romance novel, I yearn. I yearn for interaction, for stimulation. No, wait - I crave - there, that's a better verb for a fat girl, crave. So here I stand, on the verge of re-entering society, but not quite sure where to start. What do I do? Who do I call? Where do I go?
See, I lost most of my friends during my self-imposed exile - really, none but three remain: my best friend Beth, in Oregon, who thankfully refuses to give up on me, no matter how churlish and non-responsive I am, and Dawn & Rob, a married couple who live nearby, whose geographical proximity is the main reason I was unable to push them away (not even an expert hermit can fend off the dreaded "drop by"). I am very lucky to still count them as my friends, in spite of my poor behavior. So I know what I need to do - try to make amends with the friends who've meant the most to me, and (gulp) make new friends, the latter of which is certainly easier said than done. I'm fairly certain I'm the only unmarried person over 25 here in my tiny little town. Even the fifty-something owner of the feed store, who was (and still is, I maintain) thoroughly besotted with me, got married last fall. There is nothing wrong with married people, of course - but around here marriage seems to be the defining element of one's social life (or lack thereof), and most activities are couple or family-oriented.
My second, and related, challenge is that I now live about eleventy bajillion miles away from society. My little town is adorable, but there's precious little to do here. I hate that I live so far away from the things that I like to do. I'm not ready to move, not yet - my pets are happy here, and I don't want to move somewhere with less privacy and room - but I won't rule it out for the future, not at all. In fact, I'd say it's pretty likely. But in the meantime I'm going to have to just suck it up and make the long car trip to wherever the action is.
My third challenge is that I actually kind of have no idea what I want to do. I'm not even sure what I like to do anymore, and I'd like to discover new things that I enjoy. I used to enjoy singing in public -- do I still? I don't know, I haven't done it in so long. I loved being in my comedy troupe, but that was ten years ago - am I still that funny and daring? I used to enjoy cooking -- do I now? Let's see, stove has been broken for over a year, with no plans to repair or replace it, so....nope. Okay, so cross cooking off the list. I don't know where to start, in terms of activities.
So really, it's simple: I need to make friends, move closer to a city, and find activities that enrich my life. Yeah. That's not overwhelming at ALL. And see, this is my thing - I get all keyed up for things, with no real feasible plan of action, then I get overwhelmed and lose momentum and interest, and ultimately give up. I'm determined to not allow that to happen this time, so I've already decided that it's all about baby steps. One day at a time, finding my way and rediscovering myself as I go.
Yesterday was a banner day. I got up in the morning and thought to myself, "What would I like to do today?" "Play pool," I thought instantly. So I got all prettified (as any self-respecting pool hall babe should), and took the long trek to the pool hall, where I proceeded to have a great time playing pool by myself, and then with some guy who offered to give me some pointers (and yes, he was hitting on me, but he gave me some good pointers, so whatever, god bless).
Afterwards I went to the paint-your-own-pottery-store owned by my friends Jackie and Andrea, both victims of my friendship embargo. I steeled myself before walking in, not sure what their reaction to me would be. I shouldn't have worried. Their eyes lit up when they saw me, they engulfed me in hugs, and they actually cried, they were so happy to see me (of course this just made me feel like even more of a shit, but still, it was well worth it). I tried to apologize to them, but they'd have none of it -- "All that matters is that you're here now," they said. It felt so good to be with friends again, laughing and catching up. I just grinned all the way home. And hey, I painted a lightswitch cover while I was there, and it turns out I still like doing that, too.
So let's rack up my score for yesterday: Played pool, reconciled with two friends, and confirmed that I still enjoy painting unfinished pottery. Quite a day for a hermit.
A recovering hermit, that is.
