The loneliness of the long-distance jazz singer
What do you do when you’re feeling sad, but everyone you know is asleep?
I can’t say it’s a problem I’ve faced before.
And I guess the answer is: write a blog post.
I was thinking of putting up a sort of back-up post - every blogger should have one - which is a little list I’ve been compiling of things I’ve learned in the first week. Or telling you all about the funny karaoke bar I ended up in last night. Or posting photos that I’ve taken.
But it feels unnatural and insincere to pretend that everything’s OK today. Because it isn’t. I’m feeling very blue, and sitting here crying.
I’ve been up for a few hours now - and I decided that I’d try to make myself feel better by going down to the food hawkers’ stalls next door to get some lunch and take some photos, and then go up for a swim… But while I was out, I bumped into one of the friendly guys who were at the gig the other night; and he asked me to join him and his friend for a coffee. But I made my excuses, and left. I felt bad, but I just couldn’t face making small talk and being jolly with people I don’t really know.
That’s the strange sort of loneliness that’s hit me recently. I love meeting new people - I like people - and those who know me would certainly describe me as gregarious. And I’ve got enough business cards already to contact people if I want to not be alone - there are people around, if I want to reach out to them.
But every single person in my life here is a new person - with all that goes along with that. Many of them - all of them - are very nice, and maybe some could become good friends, even friends for life. But I’m at the beginning stages of friendship or acquaintance with all of them.
And on top of that, a part of me is a very solitary creature. I’m happy in my own company, and very independent. And I guess that’s just as well, because I probably wouldn’t/couldn’t have embarked upon this adventure if I wasn’t.
So I guess what I’m saying is that the result of all these things is a feeling of solitude. And right now, in this moment, I am seeking that. Yet of course, desperately not wanting it. Because I don’t want new people around right now. I want old people. (Well, not literally old people. But you know what I mean.)
But there’s nothing I can do about that… Save digging down into my inner resources again, and doing whatever it takes to lift my mood. Whether that’s writing this, going to the gym, going to sleep, treating myself to room service - or even having a facial so that at least I won’t look so puffy-eyed later tonight. And then, yes, there’s always singing. I’m never really sad when I sing.
I also have to trust that this feeling will pass.
As for the reason I’m sad in the first place… well, remember The Person I Wasn’t Supposed To Call? Last night I called him. Or rather: Skyped him. And it was so wonderful to see him again… But it just reminded me of how much I love and miss him. (And it was missing him, and wanting to be sharing the evening’s experience with him, that prompted the call, of course). And now I’m overwhelmed by fears that we will never be back in each other’s lives as I hope we can be.
And that, in brief, is how I’m feeling today.
(I promise I’ll respond to your comments when I’m feeling perkier.)
February 4th, 2008 at 4.46pm
Hey Sweetie
a) everyone still here with you in spirit. b) I know that doesn’t equate to the hug you need, but you are. c) Before I left for abroad for a long time, my sister said to me to make sure that there’s one person from home, who you don’t have to explain yourself to, historically, linguistically, emotionally, culturally etc who is there to hear you and to whom you owe nothing and want nothing from. d) Choose that person and phone them. e) You’ve just been there a short time but long enough for adrenalin to have worn off and it is not keeping you going anymore. So that now, all the energy that you have expended in getting through the new, the events, the challenge and the nerves leaves you basically knackered. Which is not a good place to be when upset, and is some part of being upset too in that there’s less energy to keep the barriers up. and f) it’s OK to be upset. I’d go for the facial and throw in a massage too. And a bit of shut eye. R x
February 4th, 2008 at 4.48pm
ps and I’d probably throw in a large G&T and a big fat rolly. But that’s because I’m dissolute. r
February 4th, 2008 at 7.53pm
hey Andrea, rach is right, we are all thinking about you and love you. you’ll be ok.
February 4th, 2008 at 10.29pm
I wouldn’t choose Pete as the friend to phone. He doesn’t care.
x
February 4th, 2008 at 11.37pm
that’s true, I am a bloke after all. It’s all pretence.
February 4th, 2008 at 11.43pm
Just found this (found, as in I’ve not been engaged in scholarly activity around the subject, just reading the English Department’s website)
A poet is a nightingale who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds’ (Shelley, ‘A Defence of Poetry’).
Bit like you!
February 4th, 2008 at 11.46pm
umm actually no, it’s a mating call.
September 14th, 2010 at 5.17am
I like your site.