Seclusion – A Rant

I think, after all this time, I finally understand the fundamental difference between hanging out by yourself and hanging out with yourself.

I’ve always enjoyed solitude, I’m always more at ease alone than with others. But I think I can confidently say now that I enjoy my own presence. Not always, of course, progress is rarely linear. And I am forever conscious and cautious of that slippery slope towards my agoraphobic tendencies. But that time now has less of a “lack of” connotation.

I’m not always alone by choice, and there are many grievances that come with that, and that topic on its own could be an entire essay, diverging from mental health and anxiety all the way to the impacts of COVID on my atrophied social life. But I’m not here to talk about that. I’m not here to talk about anything in particular, actually, I feel as though I just needed to externalize this personal victory somewhere.

I do not like self-help type books or articles. No hate to anyone who enjoys them, I can certainly appreciate the positive impact they potentially bring to their readers, but it’s just not for me. And I will never claim to be able to help others, especially people I do not know, with things that are this personal and relative to one’s circumstances. And I’m not sure exactly why, but I’ve noticed there’s just something about “bettering yourself” that is perceived as inherently embarrassing. So I don’t usually like to share that side of what I’m dealing with— that, and I don’t think I can properly encapsulate it if I tried.

It sounds nice and clean to say, “I’m working on myself”. But obviously, it’s a lot easier said than done. You never stop working on yourself. Especially if you struggle with mental health, boy, semi-functioning can surely feel like a full-time job. But you can always try. And hey, sometimes it works! It usually starts with evaluating your mindset and actively choosing to improve it. Reconditioning myself to be kinder and more patient and understanding to myself has been huge. Slowly, I’m learning to meet myself where I’m at— because if I, who do know every circumstance that has made me this way, don’t try to be understanding and tolerant, who will?

A lot of it was getting through my head that people can very easily see through others. Body neutrality has helped with that, and it was via a too honest (but impactful) comment: “when you tuck your stomach in, you don’t look skinny. You look like a chubby person tucking your stomach in. So just be chubby and comfortable.” Somehow, that comment alone made me able to wear bikinis in public. Obviously, body image is way more convoluted than that (and for me it has always been more about gender than weight), so I wouldn’t say I’m cured from being self-conscious, but it was surprisingly freeing.

I’m allowing myself to be more self-indulgent when I can, taking way more breaks when it’s possible. It sounds silly, but I feel like I’m slowly breaking down or justifying all these arbitrary rules I made up in my head that I’ve followed since always, just because. Maybe it’s an OCD thing. Old habits die hard indeed… And going back to that first point, it is almost more important to forgive myself when I fail to improve than it is to try in the first place.

Maybe this all sounds cliché and buzz-wordy, but it has indeed allowed me to be more at ease with myself (or at least, less harsh when I’m not.) I don’t think I had realized I didn’t treat myself as a person at all.

People have always complimented my self-discipline. And while that is important, they never commented on what I’ve neglected because of that. I lived under a dictatorship, ruled by me. Finding balances has been nice. I’ve been going to the pool, getting some sunlight in me. I’ve been eating fuller plates and treating myself to snacks when I want them. I’m scheduling and following through health appointments. I’m exploring interests despite how they might be perceived.

I will carve a life for me that doesn’t constantly feel so difficult and heavy, even if I’m carving it through a mountain with a plastic spoon.

It isn’t easy, it isn’t pretty, it isn’t linear. It’s hard, frustrating, slow, and annoying.

“But unfortunately, I've decided to enjoy life anyways.”