October 7, 2010

On the squelching of panic

I think I have always been under the impression that once you find a partner, you don't feel lonely any more. I should know already from experience that this is not true--that it's my own problem--but somehow I still seem to operate under this illusion. And it surprises me every time I encounter it.

I still don't know how to negotiate the boundaries of writing so much of my personal life in a blog that suddenly includes another person whose privacy has to be considered. And rather than deal with that or find a way through it, I have just not been writing, in general. And I miss it.


Anonymous said...

The quickest way to being lonely is to unnecessarily sacrifice the things that make you most happy in the name of love.

Bree said...

I resonate with this entry so much. I think the above anonymous comment is right-on, actually. Ultimately, even within a partnership, we need to continue engaging in life as our own agents, so that we make meaning for ourselves and incidentally can share that experience with our partners, rather than relying solely, or even mainly, on experiencing life through the filter of our relationships. But that said, I think there's also a an arguably universal existential reality that we are all ultimately alone, that even with a partner or partners, we can't escape the dilemma of having this internal consciousness, this internal emotional reality, that can't quite be fully seen by another person, no matter how close we get, no matter how perceptive or emotionally attuned they are. And so, in some ways, we're destined to live alone and die alone, one of the great philosophical and emotional problems we face as humans with this blessed/cursed ability to observe our own consciousness.

I think the way through it is working toward acceptance of this aloneness, rather than resisting it or being dragged down by it. It simply is. It can be even more depressing and paralyzing to confront it at first, but ultimately it's a fruitful inquiry, I think. Namely, because we can't change it. When we cease trying to change it, we get to experience our lives, the joy and the pain of our lives, without this extra layer of fruitless yearning not to be alone, which I think is really at the core of anxiety and depression.

My very longwinded two cents.

Thanks for continuing to write and share your experience the best you can, Toad! I love your words, and what of your inner world I get to see. xo