Strangely not lonely being alone.

Pretty dumb headline now I think about it. What I’m trying to say is that even though I am now alone and spend a lot of time on my own, I’m liking that I don’t feel lonely. A couple of months ago I really thought that I would.

But of course that is too long for a headline.

It’s one of those realisations that just crept up and SLAP. I’m quietly pleased. When I first moved in to Man Pit in March it was the first time since ’98 that I had lived on my own. Also, it was the end of a 6 year relationship so of course I was nervous about how I would handle it. Now a few months in its time to reflect and analyse, see how what’s gone on with the benefit of hindsight. And I think my apartment tells the story…

I think for the first few weeks I was obsessive about my new place, Man Pit. Obsessive! Every detail. I went to Moore Park Supa Centre about 12 times, as well as heaps of other furniture places, as I fitted it out in a finely tuned dance of seek-assess-plan-compare-purchase. So happy with everything I got that I treated my new home like a museum. And rarely left it. For those first few weeks I was very busy keeping it pristine and getting to know myself within it. Seems a little bit psychotic now, but I guess getting to know Man Pit and my new stuff was like therapeutically getting to know my new bachelor-self.

I got to know the local area a little bit but on the whole I stayed within these four walls. Subsequently I developed a pizza and oven-food addiction. Then the pendulum swung completely the other way, it was a full 180 degree turn-around. I started to show off Man Pit to anyone who’d come over and I madly filled my diary. I wanted to be out & about and fabulously single. Booked in dinners, drinks and catch-ups so many nights. I’d got my confidence up and wanted to be a part of everything and anything. Now I had my new home sorted I could explore.

This lasted a while as I reconnected with the outside world. I stopped treating my home like a museum and it started to feel lived in. Dirty clothes piled up and dust gathered. Then without even realizing I slipped into the third and current phase. It’s home now! Man Pit feels lived in. I am so unbelievably comfortable here, with my own little routines, that I am actually completely contented. It can have shit everywhere, or be as clean as a whistle. I know the lights so well I change their effect depending on my mood. It’s a place that I can change the function of with a simple sliding of a door and depending what time of day it is. I love it. It has everything I want.

So in this current phase I’ve become a lazy, boring home-body. Given a choice I’ll always stay on my couch with my laptop and Foxtel remote, Little Sammy beside me. I’m especially bad on weeknights. Just realized I’ve spent every night at home this week. Weekends I’m a little more active but having said that I’m going into the long weekend with very little planned. Actually need to fix that so will get on the bat-phone. Still haven’t quite got the balance right obviously, even in phase three. Finding the right balance will be the goal of the upcoming fourth and I think possibly final phase.

To quote all great reality shows, it’s been a ‘journey’. Slowly getting my shit together. But very happy with where I am. The good news is that I am contented and happy to be on my own and living on my own. It’s not as scary as I thought it would be to be stuck in my own head so much. It’s been kinda cool actually. I’ve always known that ‘home’ is important to me, that I need an anchor. I need my stuff around me. Now I realise I’ve come to think of Man Pit as home.

Now if I can only get the balance right between home-body and society princess…