Isolation is nothing new to me. I would have spent the past several months alone regardless of the pandemic. Being alone is something one gets used to. At some point you realize that being alone is preferable than being in a crowd. It becomes comfortable and in a way, safe. There is no need to apologize to anyone if you lose your temper. If you are feeling moody or melancholy, it isn’t necessary to explain to anyone, why you are feeling down. You can set your own schedule, eat what you choose, when you choose, and wear funky, mismatched clothes. Nobody sees you, so there is no need for makeup or even a need to smile, unless you feel like it.
Naturally, one misses companionship. One on one conversations and dinner for two would be nice, but you learn to enjoy your own company. You do those things that make you happy and you don’t need to worry about acceding to someone else’s wants or needs. There are drawbacks of course. If you are sitting on your porch or working in your garden during the summer months, the laughter and aroma of barbecue from your neighbor’s family gatherings can be difficult to ignore. They are reminders of just how alone you really are.
The difficult part is the lack of physical nearness and touching that one experiences in a relationship. I do not mean sex. Sometimes the desire to simply be held by someone or to engage in a meaningful hug leaves one feeling a kind of insatiable hunger. People who live alone often have dogs or cats to keep them company. I am grateful for my cat. He insists upon several minutes of having his head scratched every day. I often ask him why he doesn’t do the same for me. Obviously, even if he could, his claws would leave me bloody; so I settle for his strong purring. It isn’t quite as satisfying as a hug nor is it as stimulating as a conversation, but it does calm me. It soothes my soul and that is the most that I can ask for.
