Sick days have a way of forcing us into solitude, whether we like it or not. It’s during these moments of isolation that we can discover new perspectives on ourselves and our lives. I’ll admit, that there’s a part of me that finds comfort in solitude, but I wonder how much of that is self-punishment rather than self-indulgence.
Being alone has always been my comfort zone, and I’ve had my fair share of struggles with the fear of rejection. I’m actively working on overcoming my lone-wolf syndrome in therapy and by reaching out to friends and family. However, there are times when being around others can be draining for me. Maybe it’s because it’s hard for me to ask for help or the simple fact that no one can truly understand my experiences like I can. Being sick reminds me of this, and it also offers an excuse to be alone – alone and in pain, but alone nonetheless.
Recently, I experienced a severe toothache that felt like it could be the end of me. My jaw ached, my neck was strained, and the relentless pain in my head kept me awake. After enduring four days of agony, I finally had to reach out for help. I visited an oral surgeon, who put me to sleep and, an hour and a half later I was on my way home with a giant vegetable smoothie and bloody gauze in my mouth. Although my cheek was swollen, and I couldn’t eat solids for a while, I was immensely relieved that the pain had subsided.
While I usually relish the isolation of a sick day, this particular one struck at the worst possible time – right before Halloweekend. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of sadness and resentment as I saw my friends’ stories online and overheard plans that I knew I couldn’t attend. Instead of viewing my sick day as an opportunity to recharge my social battery, I saw it as some sort of divine punishment, a confirmation of my status as one of god’s bastards.
I recognized that my emotions were irrational and whiny. Still, with the second eclipse of the month on the horizon, it felt like the universe was reaffirming my destiny of loneliness.
Despite the circumstances, we have choices in how we handle our recovery. After a day spent sulking in bed, I changed my perspective. I washed my bedsheets, brought out my silk dress and lace robe, and transformed my sick day into a more glamorous affair. I sprayed eucalyptus scent on my pillows and sheets, lit my favorite candles, and indulged in a raunchy audiobook on cassette.
My silk dress was typically reserved for “special” occasions when I knew someone else would see it. However, my reluctance to wear it for my own enjoyment made me question whether I valued my alone time enough. It led me to ponder if it wasn’t solitude I cherished but rather wallowing in pain and suffering.
Sick days can be a mixed bag of emotions, but they offer a unique opportunity for self-reflection and self-care. Embracing these moments of solitude, we can turn them into a time of personal growth, introspection, and even a touch of glamour.
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