We Will Not Run To Each Other When The Quarantine Is Over
/We Will Not Run To Each Other When The Quarantine Is Over
At the beginning of quarantine, I wondered what I would discover. I expected a change in myself, to realize who I miss, or to have epiphanies, as I have seen in others. But as the days went by, I began to move further and further away from people. I didn't miss it, I didn't feel lonely, and when someone said "I'm here if you want to talk," I smiled politely, and I made them believe I will contact them soon but never did.
I understand those who can't wait for their lives to return to normal. Friends were asking me if I was OK. I did not dare to tell them that I was afraid that the quarantine would end too soon and that the noise and the people would return. I was a little ashamed of my answer. I'm fine like that. I like quarantine.
Since I was little, I stayed more alone; I was the only child, so I learned I did not need the presence of other people. I had the books that I consumed as food, and I had cartoons, then movies at the cinemas and always animals.
Now I like people, but in small doses, within my limits, I can say "enough, now each one can go to its own direction". It is difficult for me to understand the need of others for a constant human presence. I never got bored alone, but I often got bored with other people, if those people don't have something meaningful to tell me. I will just pretend I listen because I want to be polite, but in my head, I will plan my next day.
There are people I would talk to for hours because their presence and their knowledge or humor will keep me alive and entertained, and there are people who make me feel like every second is like torture by just sharing some banalities. "We've been sent good weather."
I have learned to realize when I need solitude and when it is not beneficial for me to reject those around me. Because it often helped more to just drag me out of my corner, and go out with people, and do something. The line is fine, and I always try to figure it out in the dark and find the light at the end of the tunnel.
My need for solitude was not often understood, neither at home nor in relationships. I always felt I had to fight for my space.
In relationships, the struggle was more acute. It was difficult for others not to take it personally, to accept my sentences that started too often with "I" and not with "us", and my need for real physical space, sometimes measured in days. I always felt guilty when I asked for my space, and even if I didn't say it out loud, I wondered what was wrong with me. Maybe that's why I like cats because they are independent and do not always need my presence.
Things are different now, and I get everything that I need without the need to ask. Next to me, I have a man that understands me, and he knows exactly what is the moment I need time just for ME.
When I need a day or two for myself, I always do it thinking of the saying, "When you're in the woods, you can't see the forest of trees." So I go out of the woods and look at it from a distance, and then I feel it's my choice to go back.
Solitude, for me, is not loneliness. Solitude for me is when I stop the world from spinning, I wait until it's quiet, and then I can listen to myself, ask myself how I am, what I need, what has changed, and what needs to change.
After quarantine, we will not all run to other people. Social anxiety can be deconstructed as a fear of people, and now with the new context, people are the danger, as double entendre.
In this new era for everyone, our brains decide on defense mechanisms. They appear to protect you, but they come from things recorded in the subconscious, and not all items in the subconscious or all defense mechanisms are necessarily good.
My method of defense was a form of solitude and isolation. It protected me, but I know I need to find some form of moderation. Otherwise, I feel like I'm looking out at life like I'm in a crystal palace. The quarantine continues...
Love, G.
