Last Friday has been a strange day — and: a beautiful day. A confusing day, on all accounts. It started good, then turned bad, finally turning out good after all.
"What happened?", you may ask (you may very well not ask but I'll tell you anyway).
I wasn't working, so I was pretty relaxed, however tired from the days before. It was sunny — a lovely, mellow, colorful autumn day, blue skies and golden leaves, the world looked beautiful and I felt blessed, simply being. I spent the day lazing about, enjoying the beauty of it as much as the absence of chores to take care of after a week full of work that had me crazy busy for days and days.
As evening fell, the blue sky turned lavender, then pink, then finally crimson and red. It was breathtakingly beautiful to watch the sun set. It touched me so deeply that it brought tears to my eyes, tears of bliss and gratitude. Then, suddenly ... BOOM!!! ... out of the blue (or red in this particular case) ... loneliness knocked at my door.
I know that being tired and exhausted is sometimes the point where weakness creeps in — the doubt, sadness or loneliness, whatever — depending on my mood. Normally I am warned and watch it. This time I didn't see it coming though, being not prepared for the sudden ache at all. I'm lucky these days, in so far that I'm almost always aware of it when it happens, and manage to readjust my thinking before it manifests as reality, but being so tired ... this time I really struggled.
So there I was, watching that gloriously beautiful sunset, reluctantly saying hello to loneliness as it slipped through my door. Starting to feel all sorry for myself, turning melancholic and sentimental, I caught myself thinking how sad it was that there was nobody to share this moment of bliss. All of a sudden it was all I could concentrate on. Loneliness. It seemed to flutter around me as if somebody had written those letters into the sky, like butterflies they surrounded me ... L-O-N-E-L-I-N-E-S-S ... in large capital letters, scarlet against the already flaming sky.
Now, go figure! Just a second ago I had been perfectly enjoying that moment — all happy gratefulness, all grateful happiness — and suddenly the same situation managed to bring me down like that. I mean, how silly is that?
Having just watched the documentary "What the Bleep do we know" for the umpteenth time, I was very much aware of how we possibly create our individual realities and knew what I was doing and that I might very well change the situation for myself if I really wanted to. But quite honestly, for a moment it felt good, letting myself drift into sorrow and self-pity. It was just less demanding, less effort, you know?
I could suddenly feel the fatigue in my bones and body and being so immensely tired, surrendered to it. I could feel the loneliness like some kind of physical pain as it started to manifest inside me. It's always the same. It starts in my head, then sinks into my chest and heart, slowly expanding into my tummy where it kind of settles. I feel as if I become heavier and somewhat numb. It's always the same shit and there is just no use in feeling that way. I know that, I do! But it seemed so much easier, letting it settle, sinking into the self-pity and sorrow.
I made a half-hearted attempt to divert my thoughts and jump off that train to nowhere. I tried to phone a few friends — in vain. Nobody answered. I considered going for a walk in the twilight but was too afraid that might just make things worse. So I turned on the computer. I tried to write it all down, hoping to just write it off, that damned loneliness, somehow getting rid of it by describing it like I do now. But there were no words. My mind was blank, empty, tired, sad, melancholic, lonely. Forlorn and forsaken, haha! I logged into myspace, thinking I might just have a little chat there. None of my friends were online. Where was everybody???? Darn it. I changed my status update to "lonely" and logged off, pretty much bathing in self-pity by then.
I got myself some food ... I ate ... alone ... feeling lonely, of course ... poor, pitiful, pathetic little Lilli ... all those lonely meals ... day after day, week after week, month after month. I started to conjure up pictures of how they would turn into years, decades ... forever, maybe?
Then I heard the familiar "pling" of my inbox telling me I had e-mail. I went to look and found a notification from myspace, telling me some friends had sent comments and messages. I logged back in to check.
It's funny – I never think that anybody actually reads those status updates, but quite obviously people do. So I found several concerned and lovely messages, different friends checking in to ask if I were okay, trying to cheer me up, asking if they could be of any help, whether I wanted to talk, if they should phone, telling me they were there if I felt I needed company, however virtual maybe.
Wow, this really touched me. I know I have a lot of friends who care about me. In real life, of course, but also quite a few in the online world. Still, I didn't expect such immediate responses. I know a lot of people are constantly displaying their negative moods in their updates, I hardly ever feel that way, though – and when I do I normally stay away from myspace and other such platforms. Maybe it's due to that that some people get strange ideas about how I am, expecting me to be this eternally blissful and balanced person, in total control of her moods, dealing with everything so serenely. Yes, sometimes I am that person ... but a lot of times I am not. There are more than just a few days when I'm far from having the sun shining out my ... umm ... backside — but normally I'll just deal with it, working on it instead of feeling sorry for myself and being pissed with the world. Normally ... not always. So maybe it was because of that — because of it being somewhat unusual for me to publicly announce I felt lonely — that some friends got back to me promptly. I don't know.
What I do know is that those messages reminded me that I had a choice, after all. The shortest one simply said "Ah, Lilli, don't be lonely!" and it made me pull a wry face at first, giving a somewhat bitter and cynical laugh. Yeah, great advice, thanks ... as if it was up to me ... bullshit ... I felt frustrated, something I rarely experience. And then it dawned on me. It was up to me. That bitter laugh really did it for me, it got me out of it. Suddenly I thought of how I had not been alone for so many years ... how there had been somebody to share those special moments — and how often have we just let them pass. I had to admit to myself that I experienced some of the worst moments of loneliness while being in company, ha! Relationship of any kind certainly doesn't guarantee togetherness. And togetherness again doesn't necessarily eliminate loneliness.
A friend of mine once said: "Loneliness is part of the deal" and I guess he's right. Life is what we make it and so is my aloneness. Quite honestly, on most days I am fully aware of how loneliness has it's beauty as well, if not looked at as being a problem. So the bitter laugh turned into a wholehearted smile and I went to bed — still alone but no longer lonely, falling asleep immediately. It probably was what I should have done right away, when realizing it was fatigue making me so prone to pain.
Looking back now, I can smile again and shake my head at my sudden leap of faith, my silly mood swing ... my sense of reality jumping this way, then that, then back again ... no longer sure it is us adapting to reality but possibly rather reality adapting to us ...
