Solitude and Being A Hermit

 

I choose to be what so many people describe as being a "hermit."  For now, it is what is a comfortable lifestyle for me as I contemplate the rest of my life . . . again. 

It is important for me and necessary for my healing to write honestly about these past months without going into major details.  I also hope it will help just one person out there going through something.  That is what my blog is about. 

My heart has been broken.  I am grieving the loss of another husband and I've been judged by people who can neither understand nor validate my deepest thoughts, feelings, and concerns during one of the worse times of my life.  My body and soul has been numb and lost.

Lacking compassion for my feelings, they could not be gentle enough when I finally developed trust and honestly open up about everything, breaking something in me over and over again.  

My heart is tired and craves my alone time, the solitude that is my comfort zone from those who deem themselves "normal" and feel so compelled to judge me unfairly, not even trying to understand where I am in life and where I have come from emotionally, what I have been through.  I'm left with the uncomfortable feeling of being accused of having a "victim mentality" when they have no idea of who I am.  

All this has been life changing.

Yes, I now love my solitude and being a hermit.  There are a few people I allow myself to be close with.  These months have given me the time to contemplate what The Captain went through, where I have been and where I am going for the rest of my life.   I'm slowly healing, I can talk about it now and am confronting everything head on, getting stronger every day.  One day at a time, one second at a time.

Believe it or not, the solitude is beginning to make it possible to heal without the judging opinions of insensitive people.  The toxicity is no longer a part of my life, they are not a part of my life, and that makes me happy.  

It will affect the way I perceive those I think about letting into my life in the future.  This is the world we live in.  Insensitivity is no longer a rare thing.

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Who sets the standards you live by?

“If I get to pick what I want to do, then it's play...

if someone else tells me that I have to do it, then it's work.”

-- Patricia Nourot

Are you continually struggling to accomplish what is expected of you?

If so, stop to think for a moment: who holds those expectations?

Perhaps you’re trying to meet the expectations of a parent or a teacher or other authority figures who may be long gone from your life. But many of us toil under the critical eyes of a vague ‘somebody’ who always judges that we’ve never done enough or done things well enough.

Who is this phantom judge?

And do we need to care about what they think any longer?

We find both our own power and happiness

when we begin to set our own standards around

what has heart and meaning for us.

“Doubt yourself and you doubt everything you see.

Judge yourself and you see judges everywhere.

But if you listen to the sound of your own voice,

you can rise above doubt and judgment.

And you can see forever.”

-- Nancy Lopez

As a child, that judge was my dad who ruled with an iron fist . . . strict and emotionally abusive. He set all the standards which constantly changed, making it impossible to attain the "ideal standard" . . . after constantly feeling the failure of attempting to conform to those standards, I became resentful and increasingly rebellious as I approached the age of becoming a young adult.

In the workplace, I set the standards . . . and often exceeded those standards. I set standards that were high, yet attainable . . . of course I would raise the bar as goals were met, but at least I let myself reach those goals before expecting more from myself. My dad taught me that lesson without realizing it.

My rebellious, resentful nature bought me the ticket of freedom . . . my dad kicked me out . . . his standards were still not being met and I didn't care since I was meeting my personal goals and had become successful enough in the workplace to live on my own.
I've always tried to be true to myself since then . . . and set my own standards, whether they are right or wrong . . . they are my mistakes to make.

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