This will be a departure from my usual posts. I usually kvetch about physical ailments. This time I'm going to wear my heart on my sleeve and talk about an issue I've been grappling with for years. Wait, maybe I should ask Dr. Plawes first if it's a good idea for me to wear my heart on my sleeve. All the Plavix might leak out. Not to mention blood and stuff. Sheesh. I thought I could keep this one serious. Okay, disregard that (allegedly) funny stuff. Here goes: I got home from Silver Lake on May 4th. and moved out of Chayie and Dave's house on October 3rd. Five months in the proverbial bosom of my family. It was actually pretty cool. There was someone to cook for me and do my laundry and usually there was someone to talk to. Those are all nice things, to be sure. Family has always been of paramount importance to me. And yet, here I am by myself. Again. This is not an aberration. This is how I always wind up. And please don't misunderstand: I'm not complaining. Most of the time I like being by myself, and that's the whole point of this rather public soul searching...
why do I like being by myself? Is being a people-person and also being something of a social hermit a contradiction in terms? I have had friends over the years make overtures, trying to be closer, wanting to hang out. I kept saying no, and eventually they stopped asking. I pushed them away. And then there's the Three Wives Situation. Granted, not one of them was completely right for me (and vice versa), but the fact remains that I couldn't make it work with any of them. That need to be alone and not to have to answer to anyone was apparently too strong. Again, this is not about my occasional bouts with loneliness and/or depression. When you choose to live alone, it comes with the territory. What I've never been able to figure out (even with all the years of therapy) is this: what is it about me that makes me
want to be alone? Now that I'm no longer working, I can spend days on end without any substantial interaction with another human being, unless you count checkout girls at Duane Reade or the occasional doctor appointment. There are days when my phone literally does not ring. Today I must have spoken to Chayie and Feige at least a dozen times. And I spoke to Babby. And oh yes, I called Verizon Customer Service. I think that's it. In therapy they talk about "secondary gains". Obviously I'm getting some kind of satisfaction from this lifestyle in which I'm constantly finding myself. Now that I've put two shrinks' kids through college without ever coming close to figuring this out, I welcome any theories from you, my faithful readers: why am I such a loner? Anyone?
* For you young folks, "Alone Again, Naturally" was a smash hit back in 1972. It was a song by a one-hit wonder named Gilbert O'sullivan (which I think must have been a stage name based on the operetta writers), and it has to be one of the most depressing songs of all time. Here's a sample of the lyrics:
In a little while from now
If I’m not feeling any less sour
I promise myself to treat myself
And visit a nearby tower
And climbing to the top will throw myself off
In an effort to make it clear to who
Ever what it’s like when you’re shattered
Left standing in the lurch at a church
Where people saying: "My G-d, that’s tough
She's stood him up"
No point in us remaining
We may as well go home
As I did on my own
Alone again, naturally
And Gilbert, by the way, was just getting warmed up; later he talks about his father's untimely demise and how it drove his mother to an early grave as well...charming, isn't it?
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