Mostly I like my single life. I like being able to go where I want without having to check in with anyone. I like not having arguments about not doing the dishes or not vacuuming. I like being a hermit when I want to be one.
But there are things about being single that are hard too.
I was in a car accident where my car was totaled last Thursday.
If that had happened when I was married, I would have had a partner to call. Someone who would have checked to see how I was. Someone who would have hugged me, kissed me, let me cry on his shoulder.
As a single person who doesn’t see her friends all of the time, such things can be incredibly isolating. Mostly people sent a lot of words wishing me well through Facebook or text.
Still didn’t get the hug I needed. Which I can’t get from just anyone. My family isn’t very touchy-feely, and even hugging is a pretty intimate experience for me. So aside from the quick, “hi-how-ya-doing” hug I’ve gotten slightly more comfortable with to appease other people, there aren’t too many hugs in my life.
And if I got one of those good, emotional hugs, to be honest, I’m going to cry. And probably cry really hard.
But the reality is, a few more “what-ifs” thrown into my accident could have resulted in me being dead. Or in the hospital.
An “I’m glad you’re Ok” on Facebook doesn’t feel like enough.
Because I get the very strong impression that if I weren’t ok I’d get the same “thoughts and prayers” the GOP sends to the victims of mass shootings.
It’s been a long time since I’ve been anyone’s priority. And when I get really sick or if something like that happens, I feel that truth.
There was an episode of Sex and the City where Miranda was alone in her apartment and choked. She had to give herself the Heimlich maneuver. She later told her friends how she was scared if she’d died, the police would have found her on the floor half eaten by her cat days later. She started feeding her cat too much food to prevent that.
I empathize with that. Even in that fictional show where the women seem like they get together quite often, apparently they went days or weeks without seeing each other. Long enough that Miranda thought her cat would be pretty hungry.
If I hadn’t posted about my accident on Facebook, who would even know? If they’d had to take me to the hospital, would people only find out when I didn’t show up for work the next day?
Loneliness. Isolation. They feel very different than being alone. Hard times, when I’m sick or hurt myself, take me back to those lonely places. I guess it makes sense a major accident would bring some of that stuff up.
My body aches and is weary from the accident. Right now, my spirit feels the same.
I’m trying to roll with it. Not judge it. Just experience it. To get it out. As Dan Millman would say, “Let it flow and let it go.”
The goal is underlying unreasonable happiness through the ebb and flow.
There’s comfort in that idea.
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