Why am I afraid of being alone?
And one thing I have realized about myself -- which I have honestly realized a while ago but has become that much more clear (and it's only Monday) -- is that I hate being alone.
When I'm alone, that's when I think too much. And it's like my demons come out to play -- performing acrobatics in mid-air over my head.
It's when I'm alone that I overanalyze tiny details and, in turn, begin to doubt myself.
That is why I am, honestly, the kind of person who likes to keep myself busy all the time. Whether it's having movie marathons or going out to the bar with friends. Staying busy all the time silences the doubts I have in my mind.
I don't think I'm the only one who tries to fill every second of every day to keep from thinking.
But I have learned that this is not a healthy way to live. I think by always keeping my mind occupied, I have lost part of myself -- because I have stopped thinking about myself.
Karyl McBride, Ph.D., said in Psychology Today, "Aloneness can be a rare and exquisite gift. ... Learning to be alone with oneself is surely an art. We are socially and culturally encouraged to be 'with'... not alone. Having many friends, being social, connecting with community, and being part of the village are common promotions. Splendid advice, but what about that special, sacred, unfettered time you need to just be with you?"
We foster relationships by spending one-on-one time with another person. There's millions of books in the self help section of Barnes and Noble, teaching us how to date, how to be social, how to be good in bed, etc. In turn, it seems like having one-on-one time with ourselves goes by the wayside.
It's been a long time since I've set time away to be creative, to meditate, to focus on what makes me, me. I'm hoping to change that this week -- to rediscover myself. To rediscover my dreams, the things I want in life -- and things even as simple as new bands and my taste in music. And to stop conforming myself to others because I'm too afraid of my own mind to think for myself.
British poet David Whyte said, "Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet confinement of your aloneness to learn that anything or anyone that does not bring you alive is too small for you."