One of my favourite sayings which I find myself using too often goes something like, “if my parents wanted me to play well with others they should have given me siblings”. It’s good to have phrases like that when you’re an only child and it shows. Otherwise it’s hard to find an excuse for running away screaming from the nice group of people with whom you went to Tofino for a long weekend.
They say your personality is pretty much fixed by the time you’re 30, so I guess I can no longer hope or assume that I will grow out of my intense need for alone time and personal space. All I can do is be aware of it and plan my life with it in mind, but sometimes even that doesn’t work. In regards to this weekend, I’ve done fine in group trips before, because the cabins had more than one bedroom (or the sites had more than one tent) and I could hide away for a few minutes, here and there, to get some calm and quiet before rejoining the party. Unfortunately, the Tofino cabin’s “loft bedroom” was both doorless and acoustically positioned to amplify all sound emanating from the crazy hijinks below, so there was no privacy nor peace to be had, except for standing outside in the rain.
The fact that I’d slept badly all week and only 3 hours the night before didn’t help. Neither did the 6 hours of quiet I received that first night (obviously Albertans and Kiwis don’t need as much sleep as us mere mortals). So I avoided everyone, spent the day alone, got a cheap motel room that night and bused home the next morning. Tofino was nice, for the few hours of energy I had to wander the town. Must go back someday, preferably alone or with geriatrics who go to bed by 10 (Dad?)*.
I know an apology is in order, though I’m not really sure if the group will understand why I had to leave and not be offended. Some of them will read this post (passive aggression is my forte) and maybe that’ll help, or maybe it won’t. There’s always the danger that people are going to find you rude, weird or just fucked up because you feel trapped by large groups. In a bad way, I mean, because they probably already thought all this about you, but considered it quaint.
As I said at the beginning, I put the blame on my being an only child, though I also like to cite:
- my 8 pm bedtime until I was a teenager,
- spending weekends at Dad’s where I had few or no friends, and
- moving every year or 2 until I was 14
as other potential causes. I’ve pondered on this topic a lot, can you tell? I got so used to spending hours each week (and at least an hour in bed every night) awake and alone, and now I need it. And I am okay with who I am (really), except for when I upset or confuse my friends with my odd behaviour.
I was chatting with an older man on the ferry from Nanaimo yesterday. He was bringing his toddler-aged granddaughter back to her mother, after the girl had spent the weekend with her father (his son). I saw the son hug the girl and say “see you in two weeks”, and it made me sad. Not that I hadn’t seen this sort of thing before, but given how my weekend had gone, I hoped the granddaughter doesn’t turn out as I had. Especially with all the biweekly ferry trips in her future. But maybe her parents will let her stay up now and again.
*Just kidding, Dad. I know you go to bed later than that.