Alone but Not Lonely?

 Throughout my whole life, I craved the attention of other people. In my pre-teen years, I spent most of my evenings crying to my mother that I didn't have friends. As I went into high school, I found myself in a tiny group of friends; however, I always yearned for the "popularity" well instead the visual abundance of what "friendship" appeared to be. Moving onto my twenties, the fear of missing out paired with my low-grade celebrity fueled by cocaine dreams and champagne wishes drove me to a rock bottom that I hope and pray that I never see again. Today, I sit in my apartment alone, not really I do have Barry the dog with me, pondering why I don't want to really be around people.

Today, during my chiropractic appointment, I spoke to the team about how I was happy with being alone, how I have cut people out of my life that I view as a roadblock in my personal growth, and how it been just me and my random adventures keeping sane during this time. Of course, I was met with the usual, "I wish I could do that" or the "That sounds liberating," but those comments seriously got my old friend, Imposter Syndrome, up and running. After leaving my appointment, I spent a big part of my day wondering if I was isolating.  

 I have found success in my own recovery by being a part of a recovery fellowship. In that fellowship, the conversation of isolation, rather the separation from the herd mentality being the bain of an individual that's in recovery. Of course, I agree with this, but at my core, it causes me to obsess that if I don't surround myself with a multitude of people, than I will return to the perils of my addiction. I'm not going to lie, I am an individual who cares what people think about me. From a young age, I have always known that I was visible, that people are always looking at you, so carry yourself in a way that brings respect to the family. Naturally, in my adult life, these "principles" that I grew on has manifested in a my internal monologue that everyone is thinking negatively of me. (Alexa, play Ego by Beyonce)

At this current moment, I am sitting in my apartment alone, and simply happy. I am happy to feel comfortable enough to sit with my thoughts, to feel my feelings, and to just be quiet. I have to remember that I am never lonely, and that I choose to be alone. It's been a long road to get to this point, but I am so happy that I've arrived at this destination.  

TWO YEARS LATER

 It's been over two years since last wrote. Honestly, I was afraid to come back to this page because of my memories of how I felt during that time. I was expecting to see blinding anger, and hatred while re-reading my previous posts, however, I was happy to see hope and optimism. After a couple of months of having a full-on tennis match in my head, I've decided to write. Sitting down for a couple hours, I realize that my memory of my life is patchy. I don't know if it is because of old age, or possibly because of all the lines I did in my twenties. All I know is that I have a lot to share, and I am going to hold myself accountable to write, and maybe (just maybe) I'll remember my past. I might as well start where I left off

In my last post, I was in the midst of experiencing my first breakup living clean and trying to process my mother's breast cancer diagnosis. Now a spectator looking in, I can applaud myself for trying to figure ways to let out my frustrations, fears, and anger. As much as I once believed that those events were the worst possible things that could happen to me. I almost wished I had a time machine to go back and tell thirty-two-year-old Eugene that shit's about to get a whole hell of a lot different and that you will get the hell out of Grand Rapids. (Slow it down, and Praise Dance it out!)

Two years and some change later. the things I thought were devastating actually were the major catalysts to change. I love to just wallow in the misery and pain of life. Even if I know that things aren't supposed to be that way, I just stand with the hopes that something will change. These two life events were the first domino, today I see that if these things didn't happen, my spirit may not be as strong as it is today. Today, I learned that I am a family man, I will forever be a dancer, and that I am enough.