Alone vs. Lonely

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I'm alone, probably for the first time that I can remember. There were times when I had a day or two here and there, but for the most part, I've always had company.

I am alone, but I am not lonely. The craziest part is that I now realize is that the loneliest I've ever felt was when I was in the midst of people who couldn't really see me. People who projected their own ideas of who I should be, how I should act, what I should be interested in and how I should look. It's an extremely lonely experience to have to spend time and space with people who refuse to accept you for who you are and make it their business to let you know that they don't approve of YOU.

Some people who have an invisible disabilities can totally understand what I'm talking about. You could be falling apart inside, in serious pain, nauseous, on the verge of a panic attack at any time - and no one would know. They assume that since you're still going, it can't be that bad.  It's a lonely place to be because sometimes, most times for me, you don't want a pity party or to be coddled. You want it to be acknowledged that you're doing the best that you can in a shitty situation. You want it to be acknowledged that if you could do more, you would. But even the people closest to you can see you struggle and not have a clue what you're going through, no matter how many ways you try and explain it.

There's something about this alone-ness that is giving me back to me. Like, I don't have to explain why I need to go lay down, I just go lay down. I don't have to explain why I need a 30 minute long hot shower to calm my nerves and relax the tension, I just get up and do it. I don't have to explain the things I do that keep me going in spite of feeling like I don't want to do this another day. Being alone reminds me that I don't owe anything to anyone. If I don't have the energy, I don't have to do it.

And it's also amazing how manipulative people can get when you realize that you don't have to do certain things. The guilt trips are quite the roller coaster! Being alone has given me insight that I wouldn't have had otherwise. Generally, I would be thinking, "Okay okay, I should go ahead and do X,Y,Z for so and so, because, you know,  I mean, I have nothing else to do." When I really should be getting my rest and preparing for the things that truly need my energy, like the six or so appointments I have in the next couple weeks. I NEED to go to those appointments, and it takes a lot out of me to go. I truly don't have time for anyone else's issues or problems if all they're going to do is take. I'm so over those kinds of relationships. I had start dealing with some folks with a long handled spoon, can't get too close or they will drain the life force right out of you.

Yesterday I stumbled upon Hilda! And what a joy she brought to me in a dark time of my life. Hilda is the creation of Duane Bryers (1911-2012). A plus sized pin up girl living her best life! She seems to have a strong underground following of devotees who adore her - of which I quickly became a member. I just love her. Not only do I love that she's a plus sized girl, I also love that she's drawn in a way that showcases her personality. She seems like she would be fun, funny and adventurous. I went through the internet to find more pictures and information about the artist and his inspiration for Hilda (I'll just leave this HERE, if you're interested. You can also click the picture at the top of this post.)

She also brought back to me the memories of the girl I once was, the clumsy, awkward, forever young spirit that I've always had. I've had some truly difficult times, no doubt, but I've always been able to maintain this sense of love for life, love for people and just being turned on by learning new things and trying things out. Four years ago, to this very month, every thing turned upside down. And that was the moment the Hilda-girl in me went into hiding. One day I will explain what happened, but for now I will say that I was re traumatized by those who knew the original trauma. I was booby trapped into a confrontation with the original offender and victim shamed because I didn't want to have anything to do with the situation. I was in a minor car accident but it re aggravated the old injuries from a previous major car accident - that I worked YEARS on becoming flexible and mobile. All of this happened within a month, and as much as I tried to hold on, I had a complete emotional, physical and psychological breakdown. So MANY things that I had worked through, so much progress that I made - walking without the cane, losing 100 pounds, being able to get my pain levels down and the infrequent use of psychotropic medications. I was doing so well. My doctor's will tell you that although my life was limited, I was living the best life that I could with what happened to me. And then to have this retraumatization throw me all the way back. It's heartbreaking. I worked so hard to get where I was and where I was wan't anything exciting or anything anyone would envy - but my GOD I was doing stuff!

So looked at Hilda yesterday and I just smiled and laughed. I remember the girl I used to be, even just five years ago. Singing with the top down, taking my hands off the wheel and singing at the top of my lungs! (Don't try this LOL!) Taking long walks, talking to myself, talking to God, screaming at the Universe, praying in nature. Searching for the perfect rocks for my collection. Dancing when I could, dancing in my room like I didn't care. Music so loud and obnoxious (I had very understanding, and loud neighbors!) I felt freer than I had ever felt, and I worked for it. I put in the work, the therapy, the physical therapy, the journaling, the self improvement work, the affirmations - whatever you want to call it - I put in some real deal serious work, and in one month all of it started to unravel.

They tell me I can get back to that place again, and although I was limited in what I could do, it felt so much better than where I am now. EVERYTHING is a struggle. I just want my Hilda-girl back.

My New Living Situation #HotelLife

About five years ago, I was on the phone chatting with a childhood friend. He was working in the kitchen at a four star hotel, and was telling me about it. As he was talking, I told him that I think it would be fun to live in a hotel. Just one payment, no utilities or any repairs or other complications. I was really just joking at the time, until he said, "Sure, plenty of people live in hotels."

He told me about a woman that had lived in the hotel for a couple of years and I thought it was a genius idea! So for almost five years I had dreams of hotel living. I did some research on it after I got off the phone with him. I read about people's experiences; making the change from renting to living in a hotel, comparing rates, and looking at what kind of accommodations I needed and wanted. I figured that after my youngest child had gone off to college, I would get rid of most of my stuff, put the rest in storage and start hotel living. I didn't know where I wanted to settle, but I figured I could do extended stays in the places I wanted to visit, and then decide if I wanted to stay in the area.

Fast forward a few years and I'm being asked by the doctors what my discharge plan is, where I am planning to go so they can set me up with the right treatment team as I move from inpatient to outpatient care. I really liked the hospital and providers that I had, but I didn't see myself living in the area. I didn't want to commit to a year long contract in an area I really wasn't excited about. I was conflicted though because I liked my treatment team, and that's saying a lot considering it's a VA hospital.

I've had almost two decades dealing with the VA hospital and have had some really good doctors here and there. But it wasn't until I got to this facility that I felt like my needs were being addressed. I had some wonderful nurses and some great doctors during my inpatient stay. I was able to meet with some of the outpatient providers before I was released and was very happy with the team - but not so much with the town.

I was sharing this conflict with someone and they mentioned doing an extended stay at a hotel, and a light went on!  As soon as they mentioned it, I knew that's what I wanted to do. So I found an extended stay in my price range - it's a suite with a little kitchenette and daily breakfast. I'm close enough to walk to the stores I need to get to and for the first time, in 47 years, I live on my own.

Probably sounds odd, but I was a middle child, so I generally shared a room with someone. I moved from home and in with a roommate. Then I joined the Army and had ALL the roommates. Then I got married and had some kids. Then I had a breakdown and into the hospital with some other patients. Moving in here, was really a new chapter for me.

It's weird living alone. I like it, but it's very different. Until now, there has never been a time when I have been able to close the door, lock it and know for certain I wasn't going to be bothered! At some point, having a husband, kids, parents and/or animals - someone or something is coming knocking or scratching on the door needing something. I mean, it's really a different feeling knowing that if I don't want to be bothered, I wont be.

I suppose there's a small part of me that misses knowing that someone downstairs, or down the hall will need me at some point. I think when you've lived your life as THE Caretaker, you don't know where you fit when you're not taking care of someone

I know it's time to take care of me. This is a difficult change because I'm so used to diverting attention away from me. I don't want to be a burden or come across as a complainer or a victim. The last thing I want is a pity party or to be sitting around here feeling sorry for myself. However, in order to heal, I must be able to admit that some very real things happened and I have to allow myself to grieve for what I have been through. Trying to throw a band-aid on it and soldier through isn't working anymore. And if I'm truthful, it NEVER worked.

All this freedom is nice and all and I like it. Everything is where I left it and if I can't find something I only have myself to blame! I'm so used to blaming everything on the kids so I didn't have to take a look at my own absentmindedness! 😄 Although it's kind of scary at times. I had a really long panic attack the other day and I got scared. I mean, although I tend to want to be alone when I have them, I'll put myself in my room or in the shower. But there's usually someone around, even if they aren't right there with me. So there's has been the comfort that if I needed someone to hold on to or to help distract me, all I had to do was reach out. Now that I'm living away from home, in order to be closer to treatment, I'm going through an adjustment period. It's probably a good time to put in my application for a service dog.

Amazon helps though! This hotel suite is cute and all, but there's no oven - so I had Amazon send me a new convection oven and I love it! I've made a chocolate cake, roasted some chicken and veggies and made pizza. Now I'm waiting for a nice, bright throw for the bed and a multicolored rug for the kitchen floor. Just something to brighten up the place and make it feel cozy. Moving through this trauma treatment is really intense, I really want a place to come back to that feels like a sanctuary. Nice colors, soft music, sweet scented plugins. A little piece of home away from home.