Embodied Loneliness

That was quick. I recently clicked my internal mood wave on an upward trajectory just two days ago. And today I can feel my body losing its charge.

I started off my day pretty great. I took Ringo on a walk, as usual. Since I have the house to myself for a few days, I did a few chores – I swept and mopped the floor, while listening to Queen, Live at Montreal. I amused myself and my pets, as they patiently waited for their breakfast, singing along with Freddie Mercury and using the broomstick and mop as a prop. After feeding them I watered my plants, did a few stretches and got some sun in like clockwork. And then it was all downhill from there.

I can’t seem to put my finger on it this time. This sinusoidal wave of emotion I go through seems to have its variables constantly changing – sometimes it’s the frequency, sometimes the amplitude, sometimes both. In the past I’ve made note of a few influences on the wave – weather changes, sunlight, alcohol and drug use, personal interactions, things I haven’t had the chance to process that bog me down, etc. But this time feels different.I have the house to myself, my parents are out of town, so is it the sudden lack of humans around me? It’s not like I interact deeply with my parents every single day, but who’d have thought the baseline of human presence around me could have such an impact.

The assumptions I had about myself since a teenager rise to the surface whenever life shows me how wrong I can be. I used to think I can isolate myself from human connection easily and still be happy, but time and time again life shows me how fragile my independence myth is. I don’t feel lonely, and yet my body senses it. It’s unnerving.

So how do I move on from here? If the mere presence of other humans around me alters my mood, then I might as well talk to someone everyday right? Wait. Is this what marriage is? Fuck.