There are times in life when the weight of it all becomes so heavy, so utterly suffocating, that it feels like the only relief is to retreat inward - to seek solitude and silence away from the world. A reprieve from having to put on that brave face and push through yet again. An escape from the incessant demands, the frantic noise and chaos. Just a few precious moments alone to breathe.
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For me, that longing for solitude often arises in the aftermath of major life stressors converging from every direction at once. When the hits just keep coming, one after another - the loss of a job, a shocking health diagnosis, the fracturing of a once-steady relationship, the death of a loved one, etc. Sudden upheavals that rock the very foundation I had my life carefully constructed upon. No matter how resilient I aim to be, everybody has a tipping point where the levees break and the flood of emotions comes crashing through.
In those moments of being emotionally inundated and overwhelmed, it's not uncommon for me to desperately crave that ability to simply...opt out. To turn my back on the world for a little while and allow myself to fully process the tidal wave of sadness, anger, fear and uncertainty gripping my heart. To feel those intense feelings without judgment or the need to filter them for the sake of putting on a presentable front for others.
There's a certain achy vulnerability in being able to shrug off the burdensome weight of obligation and performance, even if just temporarily. To let the brittle armor of stoicism crumble and exist in that raw, unguarded state where the anguish of heartbreak and hurt can wash over me entirely. To release the pent-up floodgates of anguished sobs without feeling selfish or weak for showing that depth of pain. It's soul-cleansing desperation to just...be.
It's in that blissful solitude that I can finally access the emotional reserves to begin picking myself back up. To process, to grieve, to feel the intense pangs of hopelessness and anxiety over an uncertain future - and then to start moving past them a little at a time. Burying those feelings and pretending unrealistic stoicism in front of others only results in them becoming more tangled, more unruly and destructive over time. It's only by shining a light on them through solitary reflection that I can begin untangling the knot.
When I'm alone, there's no need to put on that mask of reassuring strength for the sake of others who are already worried about me. No weighing down of their own burdens by unloading the brunt of my personal darkness onto them. Just the peaceful silence and freedom to feel and think and process exactly as I need to in that moment, without judgment or the pressure to unduly rationalize or rush through any part of the healing experience.
There's a tender intimacy to that solitary introspection that doesn't exist when sharing the deepest corners of my inner life with others. As much as the support of loved ones is invaluable during a crisis, there are aspects of the experience that can only be navigated alone. Side-stepping the need to preserve another's idea of who I am and how I "should" be coping in order to honor my rawest, most authentic emotional truth. Granting myself that mercy of fragility behind closed doors.
It's not an escape or avoidance as much as it is a necessity for survival - a means of buffering my mental reserves before rejoining the world again with a revitalized spirit and acceptance of the new reality I'm facing. A shored-up resilience that can only come from first retreating inward to find my center, feel my feelings with radical honesty, and emerge having ministered to my own emotional needs. Recharged with the reassurance that even if the path remains unclear and the challenges persist, I do possess the inner fortitude to keep pushing forward one breath at a time.
Eventually, that intense longing to withdraw gives way to a willingness to let others back in. To feel the comfort of their arms and hear the tenderness in their reassuring voices - elements that were too much to endure at the height of my despair. Those loved ones waiting patiently for me to resurface from the solitary emotional work of devoting compassion inward before I'm ready to receive it from them in full.
An ebb and flow - the expansive inhale of solitude, the grounding exhale of connection. Life's ceaseless cycles of immense highs and soul-crushing lows that make the gift of occasional stillness so precious and vital. Those coveted reprieves of being blissfully alone with oneself - to feel it all, shed it all, and ultimately heal. An opportunity to confront life's unbearable with the freedom that comes from honoring naught but the resounding truth within. To be reborn anew, ready to face the world again.
