I Always Loved My Alone Time
I always relished alone time. I looked forward to time to myself because I usually spent the other parts of the day pretending. Alone time allowed me to just be me. I could eat whatever I chose (regardless if it made me run to the bathroom every 10 minutes.) I didn’t have to worry about wearing nice clothes, or doing my hair/make up if I wasn’t up to it. I didn’t need to put on a smile to hide how I was really feeling. I could just be..
And that was the greatest thing in this world to me.
I haven’t really needed or cared about alone time lately. It is a nice feeling to be surrounded by people you can just be yourself with and do pretty much whatever you’d do if you were alone. I never had that before. I had no idea how I would be able to live with someone other than my parents. I couldn’t imagine having to be “on” all of the time. I couldn’t foresee how I would be okay eating and using the bathroom every 20 minutes (not exaggerating with these times..my transit time is insanely fast.) Whenever I would stay at someone else’s’ house, I would literally starve myself. I would count down the minutes until I was safely at home and could eat whatever I wanted without being embarrassed at the frequency in which I use the restroom.
But…things do change. You become more comfortable with your medical situation. You care less what others think. You realize that most people have something they are dealing with. And you become mature enough to realize that we care a lot more than most people about what goes on with us.
The focus of life isn’t about us. If you use the restroom more than the average person, people might notice but they aren’t starring at your every move. They have their own lives and issues. If you aren’t feeling well or in a bad mood, with time you realize every human being (chronic illness or not) goes through those periods. No one is happy, put together and perfect all of the time. For some reason, I felt like I couldn’t be honest with others if I wasn’t doing well. I felt like I couldn’t share who I really was with anyone other than my immediate family. I see now that most of that was fear. Fear of not being accepted for the person I actually am.
Growing up DOES help. I didn’t really believe it when I was a teenager but it does. It gives you a new perspective and view of not only yourself but of the world. You come to realize how little some of the things matter that you once made a huge deal about. It all takes time. But as someone who never ever EVER thought I would reach the point I am now, trust me it is the truth. It is just difficult to see if you aren’t quite there yet.