I love words. I love how they feel on my tongue and how they hiss on their way past my lips.
I love their meanings, their symbolism, their ability to grab an emotion and wrap it in luscious sound so that it brings pleasure just to say it out loud.
“I am”, I pause, “a misanthrope.”
Right now, I am. I am, truly, an old curmudgeon who loves no human company. I walk into the darkness of my bedroom, the TV noise fading behind me. I cross into the shadowy bathroom, closing the door so that I feel alone. I don’t turn on the light.
I lean on edge of the sink, my palms holding me upright as I gaze at my shadowed face in the mirror.
“I am a misanthrope.”, I say. I nod to myself in response, gray hair lifting in the breeze of the open window.
“I don’t like anyone.”, I tell the frowning face who looks back at me from the dark mirror. “Not. Anyone.”
Misanthrope.
I don’t want to talk to anyone, please anyone, feed anyone, hug anyone, give to anyone any more.
I want to buy a tiny house on the beach, where I will spend my days collecting shells on the waterline, and my nights gazing at the stars in the silence of my living room.
Misanthrope.
I don’t want to smile or chat or agree or coddle or suck up or reassure or support or argue.
I want to be the only human in my world.
Misanthrope.
What a word. What a wonderfully awful word.
-
a person who dislikes humankind and avoids human society.
Empty Nest, Full Life 
It really does sound like you need a weekend (minimum) away. All systems are overloaded from the sound of the last few posts. Do it. You need it.
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Now punish yourself with your favorite comfort foods (that will only make you fat and give you cancer or a heart attack). I can’t be misanthropic without punishing myself for feeling that way and taking a perverse pleasure in it at the same time. Example: solitary binging on cheese and crackers, dip and chips, ice cream with chocolate syrup and whipped cream,… Collecting delicate seashells and gazing at stars keeps you from being truly misanthropic, which is probably a good thing since it is our loved ones who suffer the most from our meltdowns. Go find that “beach” and refuel.
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This too shall pass…
Today I was very glad NOT to be the only human in my world. I got expert care from some wonderful humans at the emergency room. I would hate to walk into the ER and find all the equipment and infrastructure, but no nurses and docs.
You really need to go off alone — this weekend.
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Yikes!!!! Are you OK? You can’t just drop that “trip to the ER” in there like that!
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I’m okay. I called my doctor Tuesday morning to say that I’d had blurred vision on Monday night (in the middle of hosting the ladies from my church group at my house), and that I’d been having numbness in my left arm. They told me to go to the ER. The ER doc said the arm thing is a pinched nerve in my neck and the blurry vision was a migraine. Much better than a stroke!
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Holy……..! I would have no doubt had the stroke out of stress at the first sign of the numbness…..My daughter had an episode of ocular migraine a few years ago that sounds similar. Good heavens, friend, get some rest!
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I’m doing better, thanks!
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As one who spends most of her life alone without even having to take refuge in the bathroom – and who spent years talking, hugging, reassuring, feeding, and generally living by other people’s expectations – I can so relate to this! ‘If anyone else wants the tiniest measliest piece of me, I can’t answer for the consequences.’ You need more than a weekend. At least a week.
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Let me take your misanthropic self and that handsome German to lunch next week. Let me know! xoxoxo
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Hello, darling! I am taking said German boy to New York Tues-thurs. Hoping to rest up on Friday! But thank you…..!!!
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