Sometimes I face a weekend alone. It happens. Other weekends I don't. It is scary and daunting to face a weekend alone. I have to admit at times that I've made a deliberate choice to be alone given the options. Here is what I mean: every year I would go to the holidays and my alcoholic father and violent brother would destroy it. I would go out of obligation and not to be alone. I wasn't sure I had other options. My brother's outbursts got so bad that at times the cops would have to be called. He had hit me several times and it just got so bad it made me sick. My therapist/coach said to stop going. So I did. It got better.
So, this logic applies to other siutations where there are other people who are generally dysfunctional, contentious, or always having problems. I went out Friday alone because my girlfriends hate going out to meet men. I guess they are sick of men. It was a lot of fun I really enjoyed myself. That's a different story. Saturday came and I was moaning to myself that I felt lonely. There was a potluck going on with the crazy support group (there have been fights several times there) so I decided not to go. I then got a phone call from a friend to go out to the movies with a bunch of people who are in a clique. They have excluded me and shut me out for years, and the man I reallly liked there did the same. I find that I feel worse when i hang out with people that when I leave them I feel worse and more depressed then ever. I've noticed a pattern over time that my depression worsens not because I choose to spend time alone in the house and not initiate contact, but when I put myself in the presence of others who ignore, belittle or bully me. So, it would be easy to have just said OK and gone to not spend the weekend "alone" but I actually felt a sense of relief that I declined. I was less depressed sitting here by the fan. There were times the tension would go through me and my mind would start running from the isolation in circles, but it sure beat that horrible feeling when I would go to these events feeling relatively alright, then come home and start crying like mad. I guess it's a choice I made.