In some way it is total freedom to be completely alone. I choose what to do, what to eat, and when i want to do things.
I am drawn to and fascinated by the idea of spending time alone.
But while I spend time alone i get a complex mixed feeling of happiness, excitement and (surprisingly) melancholy. I start to see all the small things, and I also get more attached to "the big picture". All the plans of tomorrow start spinning in my head. And here is where the melancholy sets in. I start seeing my current life as "not good enough". I start looking at other people who seem so complete and full of adventure. I am not sad. More like determined to find an answer, while feeling insufficient.
As I spend more time alone i lose focus. I get irritated by the fact that I lost my focus. Cause there are no one else to blame but myself. And the conclusion that I am not strong and determined on my own starts crawling in.
A feeling of defeat. My ambitions defeated by my own mind. Defeated while I am as close to being myself as possible.
It gives me an idea of the struggles writers must have. Why they so often talk about depression. It seems we humans were simply not built to be alone.
I rejoin social life. And I can feel a change. I have developed new ideas. And looking back it was very good for me to spend time alone. A little bit of melancholy might not be so bad.