As I moved through dark and empty rooms last night, I realized that as much as I might look back on my life and think about how I might have benefited from the experience of living all by myself at some point, I don’t think I would have liked it very much. I get in a funk when I don’t have someone to talk to for extended periods of time. I suppose that living all alone might have made me get out more with the intention of making some friends and meeting some neighbors, but knowing me like I do, I’m not sure that would have been the case. Knowing me, I would have just sunk deeper into myself until I got severely depressed and published as a direct result of my mental illness.
Anyway, I just wanted to make a quick note that although I do enjoy some time to myself, when I need to study without distraction or just to putz around and not feel extra guilty about it when my husband asks me what I’m up to, I enjoy my aloneness because I know that it’s temporary. What I enjoy the most is company, be it that of my husband, or a good friend or two. I’ve been so secluded lately with the classwork and the studying that one of the main reasons I’ll be glad when this test is done is so I can actually reconnect with some of the people I’ve been missing, and once we’re done moving and decorating, have company in a place that’s big enough to hold some.