On being alone.

25 Mar

Before we start. This is an unusual blog. In fact. I’m not even sure it’s a blog, maybe it’s a story. What I will say is that it’s long and you’ll probably want to settle in with a drink and biscuit while you read. I hope it inspires you.

A client said to me recently how she’d heard the quote, ‘you write the book you need’ and how she had turned to her friend and said, ‘that’s Mari.’ In some respects she was right, and wrong about the book I’ve written – ‘It begins with you.’ I wrote the book I had needed way back when I began my journey. However, the new book I’m writing is a book I needed decades ago and yet, like the quote, it is the book I still need in some contexts and, as I’m now hearing, the one you may need.

I’ve been wondering how to write this for a few weeks now. I often talk about clients I’ve worked with and the changes they have made, and I talk generally about areas of my life that have changed dramatically from the shifts I’ve made. I rarely talk about the things I’m going through now, but this time I really wanted to.

I changed my mind on this because I’ve been vulnerable, (and it does make me feel vulnerable) enough to share with a few clients the journey, both literally and figuratively that I have been on recently. All of them found it helpful to hear it so they could understand their own struggles and, more importantly, not feel ashamed of them. Thank you for inspiring me. Whenever I have worked with therapists I have found it odd that we have this strange dynamic where they know everything about me and yet I know nothing about them. I have always taken the risk of sharing (when relevant) my experiences. I have hoped that by doing so clients can truly feel non-judged and that they feel they can trust that I truly understand what they are going through. I haven’t experienced all their issues but I have often experienced the feeling that issue has caused.

Without realising it until my late 30s I now know I have always feared being alone. This is not something I had ever consciously realised (as I bounced from long term relationship to long term relationship), but something I found out only as I tried to work out why those relationships were all to people not at all suited to me! I’m strong and opinionated and I felt very independent. Why did I always choose people who I knew in my heart were not right, and more importantly why did I then struggle to leave them for years once I openly admitted that to myself?

Over the decades I worked on myself, talking and talking to a variety of therapists, I understood things more – but my patterns never shifted. I know now that is because simply talking to a therapist doesn’t create unconscious change, (and can actually make it worse). It’s only by working with the unconscious mind and body that we can effectively change our beliefs and behaviours, no way around it I’m afraid.

Two years ago I left my last partner and I’ve been happily single ever since. I say happily, I definitely have moments/days when I feel utterly miserable alone, especially when my friends are busy and I feel a bit lost and untethered and I want a cuddle. For some reason I find binge watching Bridgerton or rom coms seems to help! I wonder if it inspires hope?

I want to share my last big struggle with you because having shared it with a few people – men and women – I realise that I’m not alone! I wish I had known that years ago as I wouldn’t have felt so alone or stupid in feeling this.

Having got myself to a really good mental health position now, there are a few ‘cobwebs’ of issues that I’m tidying up. One is not really so much a cobweb if I’m honest, it’s a mountain outside my door! At the age of 51 I can’t stay a night alone by myself unless it’s in my own house or staying with a good friend or family that I have stayed at before. Over the years I’ve learned to manage a hotel room – I learned this in my early 30s because I HAD to go on a course to London to learn to be a coach and couldn’t make it back in time each night. That was hard won and is an interesting story in itself.

So why does this matter?

What you may not know about me is that all my life I have wanted to travel the world. I’ve had kids from age 17-51 so it’s not been a possibility to travel alone and I’ve always had a partner anyway and, quite frankly I expected to grow old with someone so this wasn’t something I really realised was a huge life preventing issue... The most I challenged myself as my kids grew up was that I took them to Center Parcs and Disneyland Paris in my 20s when I was a single mum. The crazy thing is that they made me feel safe being in the room with them. I still wouldn’t sleep well.

Over the years any house even with a friend was a challenge if I didn’t know the house, or the friend well. The questions I asked myself were, will I feel safe there? What if they won’t let me leave a light on, what if they are in a bedroom so far away from me that I feel like I’m alone? What if I need a wee in the night and there’s no light on, or looking at the rest of the dark house scares me, what if someone breaks in and kills me (I’m not joking) - and I could go on.. These seem trivial to you I’m sure, but they kept me so scared I rarely went away with anyone. Over time (as my self-worth came up and I realised we all have our ‘stuff’), I was able to tell my good female friends how I felt (whilst feeling very embarrassed and like a small child).

These good friends knew it was likely that if we stayed somewhere together, I’d likely end up sharing their double bed! The relief of being able to be honest was huge. One of my closest friends and I would hire a small lodge with a hot tub, it had just one main room and two bedrooms, I still struggled to be alone in my room. We just decided that I would always sleep in her room.

So here I am, suddenly, at 51 and my youngest has left home and while my older son is still home for a little while, he’s often out all night and self-sufficient. I don’t have a partner and almost all my friends have kids or partners so can’t travel with me.

I am alone.

I am also completely free to travel, and to work while I travel, an even greater benefit, so I can now go anywhere in the world I like.

Except I can’t because I’m too afraid to be alone at night.

Not afraid to be alone in the day – I actually love that most of the time, to finally be able to do exactly what I want after a lifetime having to put everyone else first. I joked to a friend, I’m high on freedom!

Early last year a lovely friend of mine happened to have an empty flat in Barcelona and she suggested I go and stay. I had big dreams in my head of it, me wafting around Barcelona for a few months in the sun, laughing with my new friends on the beach telling everyone I was a digital nomad now. I could completely see myself there in the daytime, but there was no question in my mind that by nighttime I would be filled with terror. I’m not talking feeling uncomfortable, but feelings of abject terror that someone would break in and get me. I just couldn’t go. The year ticked on.

Luckily last year I also went and trained in trauma and spent all year head buried in books and courses learning about it. I’m now EMDR qualified and I understand the neuroscience and physical states of trauma. I also understand PTSD and Complex PTSD. It was a hard lesson when as my professional therapist self, I was sitting in a room full of other therapists there to learn about trauma when I was suddenly

presented with a slide that I could personally tick off most of the symptoms on, to

realise that I had had Complex PTSD all my life. In fact my reaction was to stand up and walk out in tears.

As I came to realise that my childhood had left me with complex PTSD, I also

realised two huge things. One, by constantly pursuing a better version of myself over the decades of my life, I could go back to that slide and actually note that I used to have those symptoms and no longer did. I had healed almost all the PTSD symptoms.

Secondly, that I now suddenly understood my nighttime reaction as a symptom of Complex PTSD that I had not cleared. This was why when everything else was

going so well, this stubbornly refused to go away. It was a PTSD trauma response. Talking therapy was not going to shift it. What a relief. All my embarrassment dropped away as I suddenly had words to give to this feeling of shame.

I had had some shift. The previous year after leaving my partner I had been able to stay in that lodge with my friend – in my own room! We had celebrated and then I moved back into her room because we like talking into the night anyway – but now it was my choice! I’d also stayed at friends much more easily – taking my security from knowing the friend themselves, and I’d been able to start being more honest with a wider group of friends, how I felt. Just last summer I stayed in a 3-floor house with a friend and she kept suggesting she would sleep 2 floors away from me. In the end I just said, can you stay up here with me. I learned to be alone in my own room while traveling – something most kids learn from birth…

I started to think about staying places alone (very small places!) and it didn’t feel as scary as it had. I didn’t act on it but the thoughts were changing. The shift in learning to be alone without a partner was causing shifts in other places in my head. I was learning being alone was liberating. This has spread into other areas in my life too. I feel much more able in my business plans and suddenly (as you’ve seen) projects like the new book and podcast, and relaunch of the old leadership podcast, leapt ahead last year. I started going out socially alone, I went dancing and to the cinema and just generally acted like a tourist in my own town. I have no issues going to things alone now and sometimes prefer it. I have let go of friends who weren’t really friends and I’ve stopped new possible partners coming into my life when they show the first red flag – not the 1000th one a decade later. My self-boundaries are high – they can be because I no longer fear being alone. I don’t need just anyone in my life now. Learning to be alone had been life changing in ways I never imagined. I always say to clients that the changes they make will show up in spaces they weren’t always aware of, but even for me, these changes were huge!

In early January, my friend (who had been continuously nudging and supporting me), told me that I only had until April as the flat would be taken by then. She assured me it was a good neighbourhood and a nice flat. So, one day I just plucked up the courage and booked 3 weeks in Barcelona! It’s a long time you say for a first visit. My plan was this. I could go home anytime. I knew I would be nervous in the beginning and I wanted to give myself time to get over my nerves. To be able to use all the tools I could to calm myself and if there was a possibility that I was okay there I wanted to embed it!

Still fearful I went to my therapist and asked if there was anything more she could do to help with the anxiety about it. She started to ask me questions. I had identified I was afraid of the dark, I could sleep fairly happily in a strange house in daylight. She asked me if it was just dark outside or inside I was afraid of, and through a series of questions we realised it wasn’t a nighttime thing (as I had believed for 3 decades) but a darkness thing.

We did a trauma release which took me back to a memory aged 5, where my mother was chasing me upstairs. My mother was a hoarder so I could run much faster across staircases filled with stuff than she could. I don’t know what I had done but she was angry. I climbed into a wardrobe (the room was packed full of stuff) and hid behind the clothes, I pulled my knees in tight trying not to be visible if she opened it, and when I heard her finally making it up the stairs, I held my breath so she couldn’t work out where I was (something I still do in times of stress). My mother yelled that she would ‘get me later’ and retreated. (I suddenly knew why I was scared people would break in and ‘get’ me.) The room was far too full for her to search it. Her anger would have calmed as quickly as it had come up but I would have stayed frozen in the dark, in that cupboard for a while I’m sure.

This is called the nanosecond of trauma, or the glitch. Where the brain, under so much fear thinks it’s actually going to die and simply can’t process the situation. It glitches or gets stuck. The mind does not realise that the event is over and it replays that memory continuously for the next 46 years. It can’t see the event for what it is (unpleasant but I was fine) and so it tries to find some lesson that it can use to help protect me from ‘death’ again.

What lesson did it take from this episode to keep me safe?...

Always have a line of sight to keep safe. Always be able to see where the attacker might be.

What do you not have at night in a house. No light and no line of sight.

After this release I was exhausted. My body finally relaxing fully after 45 years of

being on guard (despite all the other stuff I’ve had to work through!) slowly over the following weeks I noticed that while I still felt a bit nervous about going, I started to feel really excited too. I got to the point I didn’t feel nervous at all, but just excited.

I was in Barcelona for 3 weeks. In that time my son visited and so did a friend, but both just for a few days. I was alone both day and night for 14 days. I walked the city in the day, firstly always making sure I was home before dark, I didn’t want to trigger anything negative. As time went on though I would walk by the beach and then walk home as dusk turned to dark. Loving the feeling of freedom of being out alone and happy. I noticed that in the daytime too I was less nervous in a new place and out of my comfort zones. A tightness I hadn’t noticed in me was relaxing. When my friend came, within 5 minutes of stepping off the bus she said, you seem different, really relaxed and at home. I am, I said.

I wasn’t 100% relaxed at night. But it was high, 96% maybe. I still jumped at the odd noise, but I didn’t check all the human sized cupboards or look under the bed like I used to. I got used to the noises from the flats around me. More than that. I felt safe. I wasn’t trying to over-ride the fact someone would come and kill me. I slept with almost all the lights on, but so what, I was away alone! I felt happy. I stayed up too late, wanting to just fall asleep when I put my head on the pillow, but I began to relish those evenings alone, a movie on, a nice meal, my candle lit and my hot water bottle on my knee (I had taken as many comfort items as I could think of!)

I did 14 nights alone for the first time in my life at 51.

The world has literally opened up to me now.

Do I still feel nervous about being alone in places at night. Yes. There is still a small part that says, don’t go, but it’s like a whisper. Would I want to be alone in a big house. No. However, I now have enough experience to know I will be okay. I have tools to soothe myself if I’m not. I know to choose smaller places while I keep testing and growing this new found skill.

What’s really interesting and why I’m sharing this, is that I’ve started to talk more openly about loneliness – the fear of being alone out of relationships and this fear of being alone at night. So many people that I thought would have thought I was being ridiculous, have confided that they too have these fears. It might not be night time, but being alone out of a relationship is a fear that is all too common. Fear of being alone at night, travelling alone, that’s not uncommon. A few people have laughed at me even trying to work on it, the concept of them changing it feels so huge. ‘You’re brave, I just won’t go’ one woman said. A 6ft 5 man I know told me he hates being alone in a big house at night – thank you as this helped me see it’s not just me!

You’ll know that the power of being alone is what my new book, the book I needed decades ago and still need, is all about. It will look at relationships but also leadership, parenting and just simply, being alone.

I’m so glad I did this work on myself and finally shifted it. It’s not perfect yet, but I have now released the memory that held me frozen in so many ways. I now can relearn that I’m safe. That I as an adult can choose when I feel safe and when I don’t. That I can trust that instinct. It will take a few more trips I’m sure, but I’m now actually booking those trips… I still feel nervous, but I’m booking those trips.

This work is powerful, life changing, identity changing stuff. I will keep working on myself until I am the version of me that I want to be. I’m nearly there now and it’s exhilarating.

I hope this inspires you that if you share the same issues, or any issues that are holding you back, that you can change them and open up a world of possibilities to you too.