:: anne in the attic ::

Create Your Own Countdown

:: Wednesday, September 24, 2003 ::

There are times when I believe I was meant to live a monastic life. Not literally, but many of the elements are there, it seems. And in many ways, it feels quite comfortable to me. I'm content to keep my own company, and often as a substitute for social contact, I develop a rich inner existence. There have been phases in my life as long as a year when I have sort of slipped out of everyone's lives and moved to the periphery, asking little and remaining rather invisible. That is not something that I honestly desire, however. After a time, I forget how it is to be close to others, and re-entry becomes a task. It's almost like a depression of sorts -- I can see myself drifting away, but feel somewhat powerless to stop it. I begin to feel isolated, estranged.

So this past week, I have made a real effort to reach out to people and try to prevent what I see happening right now. I am working a great many hours alongside trying to juggle the elements of responsibility, goals, and pleasure in my life. I see people every day, but it is only surface-skimming. I long for good, easy conversation with someone I trust well; I wish to balance the social with the solitary pursuits. I suppose, as an old friend and I used to say, some days I just would like to have my existence verified. Maybe that's just a cerebral way of saying that I'd like to know I'm loved. But then I always shy away from allowing that. So inside I wage psychological warfare with myself over things like the consequences of need, the cost of such risks, age-old battles.

"The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." --Thoreau. Women, too, I'd guess.

:: Anne 11:59 PM [smartass remarks] ::
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