Anywhere they want. I live alone. I eat in restaurants alone. I drive alone. I shop alone. I (used to) go to movies alone. I order delivery pizza and eat it all myself. I sleep alone. (except for the cat pouncing on me). I spend the money I worked for on myself.
I’ve had family and friends who made me miserable so I like being by myself. The only thing that got me through my childhood, is knowing that someday I would leave my parents home once and for all and never have to go back. I’ve had dozens of “friends” and they all did me dirty, one way or another so I cut ties with everyone. I enjoy being by myself and doing what I want, and not having to please someone else, or cater to their demands.
The downside is, there is no help for me, but there never was. Not parents, siblings, relatives, friends, employer, co-workers, Church, charity, State or Government. My parents made it clear to me by the time I was 12 that I could never expect any help from them. Whatever I wanted in this life, I would have to work and get it for myself. So I walked away and fended for myself. It was rough at times but I survived.
Being alone is not necessarily a bad thing. Solitude can make you feel sad sometimes, but more often than not, it brings something deeper—a quiet voice from within, the true ego speaking for itself. And once you hear it, you might even fall in love with the feeling.
Most of us are overwhelmed by the noise of this chaotic world. We're pulled into crowds, swept up in the collective emotions of laughter and sorrow. But in doing so, our own feelings get buried. The pain of loneliness often drives us from one crowd to another, trying to escape the sadness. Yet, in that constant movement, something truly meaningful may remain hidden from us.
What we really need is to look solitude in the eye—to see ourselves through the eyes of our soul. Then we’ll begin to understand more about who we are, and we won’t be so quick to run from our true selves. Being alone can be beneficial, though many people never become fully aware of that.
I’ve been living with myself for nearly ten years. It all started because of my wife’s career. She wanted to start a training camp, but it wasn’t feasible where I worked. So she returned to her hometown to launch her school. She gave it her all. We ended up living in two different provinces. Then she moved to the UK—we were now in two different countries. Eventually, the divorce placed us in two different worlds.
Since the day she left for her hometown, I was left alone where I worked, and later, alone again in another city. We met occasionally, but most of the time we lived apart in separate countries. The end of our marriage also brought awkwardness to our meetings. With time, our contact became less and less, until there was little passion left to meet at all. She was with our son, and I lived with my shadow.
I read, I cycled, I walked, I went out for massages, and I traveled a bit. But traveling alone didn’t bring much joy—just like having hotpot by yourself. The loneliness only deepened. So I began planning my daily life. I created a routine and worked hard to support my beloved son in another country. At the same time, I had to manage the complicated relationships between adults.
I watched TV series to pass the time. Surfing the internet became my greatest pleasure—it was the easiest way to escape the day. But the sense of abandonment would still drive me mad. I couldn’t bear to end the day without feeling I had gained something. Life couldn’t just be about drowning in digital distractions.
So I searched for better ways to fill the emptiness. I played the guitar. I pushed myself with difficult exercises each day as a kind of mental training, a way to grow stronger inside.
After so many years, I’ve found there’s no clear way out. This may last until the day I die. But I’ve felt it. And now, I’ve embraced it.
I often go to the park, movie theater, and beach to spend time alone. Otherwise, it feels like I'm wasting my life. Depending on the severity of my mood and my loneliness and my hurt and my pain and my suffering, i decide where to go…
If i were suffering to the degree of breaking down, I would go to the beach because it is a refreshing and pragmatic way for me to cope with and deal with my life…
If i were suffering moderately and if i could get some good time alone without the interruption of other people, i would select the movie that would makes me feel better and i select it relatively and go to the movie theatre to watch the movie that i want to watch..
If i were hurt by my roommates, my college classmates, my relatives, my friends, some other person or group or anybody, for just me minding my own business and if i got hurt by their action and words, i would go to the nearby park and i spend some time alone walking and try to reflect on it and i talk to my sister or my mother in phone about it. If the perpetrator consistently doing this and inflicting damage and suffering to me, i would probably become more antisocial and avoid responsibilities and interaction with that person at all costs and it would depends on the damage inflicted by others that decide how long i will stay outside.
