Solitude - Part III

A German-American theologian and philosopher by the name of Paul Tillich (1886-1965) explained the difference between solitude and loneliness like this:

Our language has wisely sensed the two sides of being alone. It has created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word solitude to express the glory of being alone.

After reading this, I decided that it probably would be a good subject to discuss concerning the previous two texts in the Solitude-series. After I realized that I had basically lost all my friends, I most definitely felt lonely, and that loneliness was in no sense a good one. I dwelled in the situation, mourned what was lost, at my failiours and at my fate. I hated life. I didn't see the point in continue living without my friends, without anyone. My family was there of course, but I simply took them for granted and didn't realize that I never would be lonely as long as I had them. The English biologist and politican John Lubbock (1834-1913) said that:

The whole value of solitude depends upon one's self; it may be a sanctuary or a prison, a haven of repose or a place of punishment, a heaven or a hell, as we ourselves make it.

So I most certainly chose my own hell and for a long time, that's where I lived. But then one day I woke up and realized something (some would call it an insight). I realized that sure, I lost my friends, but it wasn't by my hand. The situation I was in at the time of loosing them forced this to happen. Of course it wasn't what I wanted, but it happened and now I have to deal with it. Then I heard the laughter from downstairs (I was staying at mum's place at the time) and realized that I'm not lonely at all! 

In this society, it's considered wierd not to have friends. And sure, I still have a handfull of people I treasure deeply and are honored to call my friends, but they are scattered around the world and I have no possibility to meet them or even talk to them as much as I would like to. But what's most important is that I'm not that lonely after all. I have people to talk to when I'm sad. Most people may go to a friend for advice. I go to my sister. Some people have girls' nights out, I drink beer with my brothers.

I'm not going to lie. I miss having friends, I really do. And I wish that sometimes, just sometimes, I would be invited to one of those girls' nights out, even if I can't come. Being asked to join feels just as important as to actually join. But I also know that new people will enter my life and that some of them will be my friends. The worst you can do is to actually look for them. Better to give it time. The right people always show up when you expect it the least.

Solitude - Part II

The many questions

Being isolated and in solitude rises a lot of questions inside you, like why your friends left you when you needed them the most, how can you get them back or are they even worth trying to get back? How are you supposed to live a life without your friends, is it possible to get new ones? And if so, how? What do they really think of you, those few friends that you have left? Do they think I'm a pain in the ass or that I'm one of those energy stealers?

Those who left

People don't think like you. You would be very lucky (or unlucky) to meet someone that thinks just like you do. The first thing you need to learn, is that other people have their limits too, not just you. They may have their limits for different reasons than you. Maybe they don't have time for a sadass that never smiles or can go out partying with you. Maybe they want to help you, be there for you, but don't know how. Instead they withdraw.

Those people, however hard it is to loose them, are in your past. You lost your friends, for whatever reason, but in most cases it wasn't by choice. If I could have done things differently, I certainly wood. But I couldn't. I really couldn't. I was busy surviving and that was my priority. And to all my former friends: I understand. I understand why I had to be excluded, I really do. Everyone has different reasons and I'm sure yours were just as good as mine were.

Now what?

Those who are still there, are worth every piece of gold there is out there. They will stay with you, no matter what. They have seen you at your lowest and at your worst and they have been there those days when things seems a little brighter. In my case it's my family (including Linda and Khalid), Anna, Frida and Jakob. Even if they're few, even if they live far away and you don't get to see or talk to them as much as you would like, they mean everything. These people are the key to getting out of this.

You think you're alone? Look again. There are people all around you that truly cares about you and wants to be there for you. Yes, I lost most of my friends, but so what? I have my family and they're not going to leave me. And when my strength is back to normal, what's stopping me from getting new friends? I can do that, I know I can. Maybe not now, but soon enough.

Solitude - Part I

"Solitude"

There are different ways of defining the word solitude:

• the state of being solitary or secluded 
• a state of social icolation
• the state or sitation of being alone
• a state of being alone, or withdrawn from society; a lonely life; lonelyness.
• the state of being or living alone 

In most cases, solitude is not chosen. It happened for reasons that you either could or couldn't prevent. Maybe you did something so bad that your friends chose to fully or partly exclude you from their lives. Solitude can also be a result of a somewhat innocent person falling sick and no longer has the strength to keep her social life going. Suddenly there are other things to top the priority list of what is most important in your life. For example: would you prefer to fight for your will to stay alive, or would you rather keep going as normal and as a result; loose your life.

In my case, I lost my friends when I no longer had the will to live. I was in a deep depression and on a number of Hulk-strong pills to keep me calm and keep the suicidal thoughts away from my head. At this time, it wasn't even in me to call my friends, to keep relationships going and to pretend to be this super social gal I used to be. So I lost my friends. Three stayed (Anna, Frida and Jakob). For them, I will forever be greatful and I wish with all my being that one day I will be forever free the disabling angst so that I can show how much you really mean to me. I love you guys, from the bottom of my soul; I thank you.

During the years, the depressions have come back, and the problems with it. I've been slipping away from those dear friends even when I at times have had the courage to talk to them, and on occasion even see them. Anna moved to Oslo. Frida lives closer, but is busy. Jakob lives in Göteborg and is probably equally busy.

I'm really working on it, but it's still hard to be in social places with a lot of people. I never feel more alone than I do in a room full of people. Taking the bus to Göteborg is a huge undertaking even though it's only an hour away. This is probably the hardest part to explain; how I can't come have coffee in Borås or go to a party in Göteborg. I can't, because although I've worked hard to get where I am today, I'm not quite there yet. I so wish I was. Because at this time, it feels like even those three remaining friends are slipping away from me. I can't have that happen. That would certanily be the final blow. But what can I do to prevent that from happening? How can I prove to them that I'm worth to come visit, even if I can't come see them?

The Plot is Thickening

Strokkur on Iceland

I have a tendency to get in the middle of the most dramatic intrigues, more similar to a soap opera than real life. It would be foolish of me to think that my life would remain calm for a more than a week or two. The illusionary peace I from time to time experience makes me equally surprised and cautious. Surprised because it happens rarely and cautious because the calm usually is a sign of an approaching storm. Things that don't happen to normal people surely happens to me. Why that is, I have no idea. I definitely don't seek out drama, although I have to admit that in some cases my choices have lead me to it. Like going to Sudan of all places. Maybe you should expect that making such a choice will lead to kidnappings, a bugged phone and persecutions from the security police. I should have expected that my passport would get stolen by a police man, that I would have to bribe the right people just to get out of the country. I should have known.

I should have expected to get mysteriously ill from something that the doctors are clueless about, that family members would try to commit suicide a number of times, that they would nearly get killed in assaults and car crashes, get cancer, be alcoholics and that I would loose my friends, fall in love. How could I not have known? Maybe I should take the "hope for the best, expect the worst" more literally from now on.

The picture of the geysir Strokkur on Iceland is borrowed from pixdaus.com.

The Black Hole Inside

 According to NASA, a black hole is "a region of space whose gravitational force is so strong that nothing can escape from it. A black hole is invisible because it even traps light". These holes exist in space, as we all know, and in my soul. Inside is this thick, heavy materia that is sucking in everything that makes me enjoy life. It sounds very dramatic, but that's only because it is. I don't mean to complain, or feel sorry about myself, but I have reached a point where I'm completely out of solutions. Today I wanted to end my life.

[artistic pause]

I watched a movie last night called Wristcutters: a love story. It's not as emo as it sounds and is telling the story of a young man who decides to commit suicide and ends up in an afterlife much like this life, only a bit more depressing. He misses his ex, whom he later realize also killed herself after his own death, and ended up in the same world. He hits the road with his Russian friend in search of his once lost love. And although the whole suicide thing is depressing and sad, it's a movie about love. It made me smile and to some extent question my whole idea of what happens after death.

Don't worry, I'm not going to die until I'm old enough to realize all the things I should have done differently. Up until now I have worked pretty hard on making that list as short as possible. I never want to regret things I didn't do. Bila nadam.

I'm staying awake on purpose. I don't want to turn the lights off and see dawn as a reminder of the normal life I could have had. I don't want to press myself to sleep. I don't want to sleep, because I'm afraid of what I might dream. Now, khalas Meme. Never mind all that. Shut the laptop and lights off, relaaax... listen to my voice... When I count to three...

 

This is me.

Today I'm going to make a confession. I'll try not to make this just another dramatic story. I just want to state what other people might find useful, no matter if they're similar to me or have someone close who is. But most of all, I want to explain to my friends (those who are lost and those who are still here) why I am the way I am.

Background

I come from a big family. I had the most wonderful childhood anyone can dream of. When I was around 13 things started to become bad in the family and a lot of unfortunate things happened. I was more or less responsible for the wellbeing of my two younger brothers and one baby sister. When I was 15 I had my first panic attack. I moved away from home.

Life away from home

When I was 18, my mum and boyfriend more or less forced me to go to a doctor. I hadn't eaten or slept properly in months, I was dead to the world and couldn't handle even the simplest tasks. The doctor, withough putting me through a series of tests, prescribed my first anti depressants and something to make me sleep at night. It all worked well for a while.

My diagnozis

I've been to countless doctors, psychiatrists, therapists, specialists and what not. I've been taking tests, changing medicines, giving me new ones. But in the end, the angst always comes back, immobilizing me until someone else comes up wth something new. So, I'm depressive. It means that I have a lack of serotenin (among other things) in my brain. It's a medical condition and not something that you can simply "get over". I'm still on meds, and while I'm writing this I feel how I'm being pushed deeper and deeper into the dark abyss of depression. And I'm not over exaggerating.

Side effects

I can deal with all the physical side affects cause by the medicines. I'm gaining weight, I'm loosing it, I've got constant headaches, nightmares and social phobia. I can't concentrate on anything for more than a few minutes. I cry, of course. But the worst of all, is that I've lost most of my friends. I don't keep in touch, I don't call or text or email. I isolate myself to get over the worst part so that I can (hopefully) be stronger once I get out from isolation. But the effect has mostly turned out to be the opposite. I know I'm a burden, so I stay away from the ones I love the most. I can no longer do things that I loved before. Crowds scare me, simple tasks that lay ahead of me give me panic attacks, I'm constantly tired and unfocused.

The running

Yes, I've been running away from the depressions for as long as I can remember. I've moved around Sweden, to Oslo in Norway, went traveling to Australia, New Zeeland, Thailand, Iceland. I moved to Sudan, then I went to Ireland and Dubai. I moved to Morocco. All because of an approaching depression. And it did help, for a few weeks, then I'm back to hell again.

I'm sorry

To all my friends that I've lost along the way. I hope that, one day, our roads may cross again. Maybe then, I'll have enough strength to be a better friend. I try, I really really really try.