Solitude is not necessarily loneliness but most interpret it as being alone. The issue here is an assumption of context. In the types of conversations people like to have, they speak about being or feeling alone, having a deep-seated need for social interactions or to find companionship of a sort. The thought of being solitary is an off-putting or even frightening proposition. It is something that seems odd, something that goes against the grain.

Those who enjoy solitude are regularly presented a line of questioning regarding their feelings or overall state of being, a thoughtful attempt to figure out why someone would do such a thing. Why is this person not engaging the way we do? Is there something wrong? How can we fix this person? While there are medical conditions that lead to this behavior, there is an alternate explanation in which a person decides to turn away from the social norm. Through their own reasoning and introspection they have concluded that it is necessary to take a step back from the usual social situations. This could be interpreted as a commentary on society or it's just the need to attain some peace of mind, possibly both.

Civilized living consists of residing in a densely populated city and spending most of your time with a random assortment of people. Thrown together into some location the events of your daily grind are regularly dictated by other people. Mind-numbing traffic, soul-sucking meetings, "optional" gatherings, you no longer have ownership over the way your time is spent. The aural onslaught of honking vehicles, obnoxiously loud phone calls and "ghetto birds" flying overhead adds another claustrophobic layer to your state of being.

Some look forward to living somewhere like this but there comes a point when what was once the ideal setting loses its shine. That starry eyed view of the high-energy city begins to dim and reveals the uncomfortable truths lying beneath. Soon the realization sets in that there is higher cost to living somewhere like this, a mental or maybe even spiritual toll must be paid.

That feeling of the walls coming in, a slow moving mental fog rolling over the banks of your mind. It's something that can't be ignored or pushed aside until later. What begins as an inkling swells into a driving force, the need to back away from the noise, the people and the grind, the need to escape for awhile. In an age of perpetual connectivity it is a rare opportunity for someone to fully disengage. A fleeting moment of peace is soon interrupted by another call or another text, abruptly pulling you back to reality.

It isn't uncommon for people to attempt to reconnect with nature or to try find some other outlet for a temporary relief. The go-to activities tend to involve some level of interaction, which isn't a problem unless what you are actually trying to escape is other people. Bar crawls, concerts, tastings and the like are just the other side of the same coin. Essentially embedding yourself into another situation that is reliant upon other people, once again leading to the predictable eventualities that plague your normal hours.

The recognition of the common strands that entangle social settings is the lead motivator in backing away from these scenarios. Being honest with your state of mind, acknowledging the issues presented and maintaining the resolve to decide how your time is spent is important. Caving to outside pressure sets a precedent for the short-term benefit of others, opening the door for further infringement of ones self. Being capable of establishing boundaries becomes a useful skill to cultivate and will be helpful at the times a reprieve is needed from the social smothering. Some may take issue with this or even take offense to being denied your time and presence but in the end, eventually, at some primary level they will understand that you just need a bit of "me time." And if they still don't understand then just embrace being weird.