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Those Reflective Periods of Solitude!
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We all have those times when we are feeling low and just don't want to communicate with the World. These are the difficult periods that we would rather forget, the days we lock ourselves away from everyone and the times we can't cope any more. I am a strong advocate of solitude and spending time on my own. For me, it is a great healer and allows me a valuable breathing space. Able to finally relax, I can ponder issues and problems I have been wrestling with for some time.
As a child, I spent more time on my own than not; the truth is, I preferred my own company and my overactive imagination, that ran riot in the privacy of my own room. One has to remember, I have always written, since I was a young boy, so sitting quietly on one's own was part of the course. Whether keeping a journal or composing a short story, I was happy to remain cut off, aloof from everyone, writing my thoughts down on paper. I suppose I was one of the lucky ones, who enjoyed my own company, never getting bored and always actively writing or productively procrastinating in some form.
For a long time, I forgot how to express myself through words; after University, I became absorbed in the local gay scene and lived life to the full. I partied every night, was always out and about, visiting this person or that, and never had the time to articulate my feelings as I would have liked. There was a huge period, where I didn't document my life, as I do now, and that angers me. At a time when I should have expressed how I felt, whilst growing up gay, I was too busy getting drunk and hiding who I really was.
Coming out of one's shell and becoming the person I was meant to be, isn't necessarily a bad thing. Surrounded by like-minded individuals, who had the same outlook on life, facing the same challenges and problems, was a liberating experience. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and the new me was out and proud for all the World to see. However, it wasn't quite that simple. I turned into a person I didn't really recognise; the quiet, studious, methodical and yes at times melancholy teenager had turned into a full on, in your face, camp, bitchy, sarcastic 'Queen,' who only cared about himself. If I look back to my life nearly thirty years ago, this is a period of great regret; I lost touch with the person I was and the dreams and aspirations I had!
Despite the hedonistic life I was leading, I did find some time to lock myself away and reflect on the 'madness.' My concentration span was practically non-existent back then, so I couldn't have written an extensive blog of my life, like today, I just didn't have it in me. I would often write poetry, expressing how I felt. The words were often difficult to decipher, incoherent and rambling; it was clear I was suffering from depression and anxiety, despite my new-found freedoms. As I became engrossed in the scene, I became more uptight and embittered and the frustration I felt surfaced at the most inopportune moments. Arguing more, I pushed others away, and fell out with people almost on a daily basis. I had become a nasty individual, selfish, bombastic and unrecognisable. I needed time to myself more than ever, yet never seemed to get it. Able to look back subjectively today, I am able to see just what went wrong and more importantly why.
Without those reflective periods of solitude, I changed dramatically as a person. I, no longer, had space; there was so much inner conflict between the real me and the fake, false caricature I often portrayed, that my mental health was suffering as a result. If I had taken even a brief moment to step away, I could have seen just what was going wrong, but I barely had time to think, let alone concentrate on the bigger picture. The seclusion I craved then, is no different to the 'me time' I demand now; in contrast, I have it in spades today, as much as I want. I've learnt lessons and changed as a result; I no longer ignore what my head is telling me. Blogging has allowed me to pick up where I left off and once again do what I love most.
In 2021, I spend most of my days off on my own, writing, recording and reflecting on each week, discussing events and circumstances that have played a role over the last seven days. After surviving difficult times in my life and realising just how much time I need for myself, I have been able to work alongside my commitments and produce writing I am proud of. Presently, I write at any given opportunity, it gives me the focus I need to get through each day and reminds me to recall events that resonate with my sense of well-being. Finding an equilibrium between writing and working has been important in my quest for balance, and I like to think I have finally achieved it. Only time will tell whether it works long term, or once again I will have to rethink the direction I am travelling in, in order to navigate this crazy word successfully. Cautious optimism, a return to solitude when necessary, and the ability to say 'NO' is my key to success in an unforgiving World.
As a child, I spent more time on my own than not; the truth is, I preferred my own company and my overactive imagination, that ran riot in the privacy of my own room. One has to remember, I have always written, since I was a young boy, so sitting quietly on one's own was part of the course. Whether keeping a journal or composing a short story, I was happy to remain cut off, aloof from everyone, writing my thoughts down on paper. I suppose I was one of the lucky ones, who enjoyed my own company, never getting bored and always actively writing or productively procrastinating in some form.
For a long time, I forgot how to express myself through words; after University, I became absorbed in the local gay scene and lived life to the full. I partied every night, was always out and about, visiting this person or that, and never had the time to articulate my feelings as I would have liked. There was a huge period, where I didn't document my life, as I do now, and that angers me. At a time when I should have expressed how I felt, whilst growing up gay, I was too busy getting drunk and hiding who I really was.
Coming out of one's shell and becoming the person I was meant to be, isn't necessarily a bad thing. Surrounded by like-minded individuals, who had the same outlook on life, facing the same challenges and problems, was a liberating experience. It felt like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders and the new me was out and proud for all the World to see. However, it wasn't quite that simple. I turned into a person I didn't really recognise; the quiet, studious, methodical and yes at times melancholy teenager had turned into a full on, in your face, camp, bitchy, sarcastic 'Queen,' who only cared about himself. If I look back to my life nearly thirty years ago, this is a period of great regret; I lost touch with the person I was and the dreams and aspirations I had!
Despite the hedonistic life I was leading, I did find some time to lock myself away and reflect on the 'madness.' My concentration span was practically non-existent back then, so I couldn't have written an extensive blog of my life, like today, I just didn't have it in me. I would often write poetry, expressing how I felt. The words were often difficult to decipher, incoherent and rambling; it was clear I was suffering from depression and anxiety, despite my new-found freedoms. As I became engrossed in the scene, I became more uptight and embittered and the frustration I felt surfaced at the most inopportune moments. Arguing more, I pushed others away, and fell out with people almost on a daily basis. I had become a nasty individual, selfish, bombastic and unrecognisable. I needed time to myself more than ever, yet never seemed to get it. Able to look back subjectively today, I am able to see just what went wrong and more importantly why.
Without those reflective periods of solitude, I changed dramatically as a person. I, no longer, had space; there was so much inner conflict between the real me and the fake, false caricature I often portrayed, that my mental health was suffering as a result. If I had taken even a brief moment to step away, I could have seen just what was going wrong, but I barely had time to think, let alone concentrate on the bigger picture. The seclusion I craved then, is no different to the 'me time' I demand now; in contrast, I have it in spades today, as much as I want. I've learnt lessons and changed as a result; I no longer ignore what my head is telling me. Blogging has allowed me to pick up where I left off and once again do what I love most.
In 2021, I spend most of my days off on my own, writing, recording and reflecting on each week, discussing events and circumstances that have played a role over the last seven days. After surviving difficult times in my life and realising just how much time I need for myself, I have been able to work alongside my commitments and produce writing I am proud of. Presently, I write at any given opportunity, it gives me the focus I need to get through each day and reminds me to recall events that resonate with my sense of well-being. Finding an equilibrium between writing and working has been important in my quest for balance, and I like to think I have finally achieved it. Only time will tell whether it works long term, or once again I will have to rethink the direction I am travelling in, in order to navigate this crazy word successfully. Cautious optimism, a return to solitude when necessary, and the ability to say 'NO' is my key to success in an unforgiving World.
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