The Alien Discovers Freedom

So I’m working with my therapist on my feelings of loneliness and it’s kind of fun.

Let me explain:  when I say loneliness, what I really mean is I’m not human and the next of my kind is likely millions of lightyears away in a galaxy we probably know about, but on a planet orbiting a star we can’t dream of ever seeing.  This is not hyperbole.  (well maybe a little)

The problem, oddly, isn’t the loneliness itself, but rather the way I respond to it: terror induced depression.  So, according to my therapist, the best way to change my negative response into something positive, is to address the loneliness by actually saying out loud “I am lonely,” but to then follow that statement with something positive. For example “I am lonely, but I am happy with myself.” (I also tap several times on a number of pressure points on my upper body in order to disrupt something about energy and something and something else, but I will read about that later today)

I’m not satisfied with the phrase we came up with in our session yesterday, so I’d like to take this time to write my way into a better one.

Here we go:

I’m alone, but at least I get to swear whenever I want.
I’m alone, but I can make my own appointments. (and of course forget them)
I’m alone but …. SQUIRREL!
I’m alone, but I get to say when there will be no more talking.
I’m alone, and that means I’m not married. (several minutes of relieved laughter)
I’m alone and that means I could seal up the shower and fill it with water and take a vertical bath.
I’m alone which means I’m the only one telling me what to do. (not sure how positive this is)

I’m alone, but … I’m free to be alone.

I’m alone, but being alone makes me free.

Free to stop moving, to close my eyes and breath and feel my feet on the solid floor. Free to build my small altar by the roll top desk and decorate it with a twisted chicken wire tree, a tiny aquarium with running water and lights that change from blue to lavender
to yellow and green and red.

I’m alone, but being alone I am free to worship in peace. Free to define how and what I worship: gods of ice water, gods of fitful sleep, gods of air conditioning and heat, ceiling fans, dimmable lights and textured walls. Gods of blankets that are like cloaks for crying. Smiling gods. Grinning giggling gods. Modern gods of texting shortcuts. Gods of language and broken rules.

I’m alone, but I’m free to exist in my own space without criticism, without advice or instruction. I’m free to not smile. I’m free to feel the new shape of my own body. I’m free to be naked and love what is there, which is everything, almost.

I am free. Free to be as I am and nothing else. Free to be conscious and name myself Ellee, whose angry face induces laughter and joy, whose arms are smooth now, the long hands and fingers beginning to experiment with dance and meditation.

I am alone. I am alone but not terrified. I am alone and I don’t know how much longer I will be alone. Lucky loneliness. Happy compassionate loneliness. May it stay with me. Allow me my solitude. Allow me time enough to find and name and feed the ten-thousand gods in me.

I’m alone, but being alone makes me free.

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