Alright, so this whole “Pisces Week 2 Loner” thing, it hit me hard. Not in a bad way, not really. More like a realization, you know? I’d been feeling this pull, this need to just, well, be by myself for a bit. Not because I didn’t like people, I do, just… I needed to peel away from all the noise, all the constant chatter and demands. It started subtle, a little nudge here and there, then it grew into a full-blown urge. I figured, okay, if this is what my brain is telling me, I gotta listen.
My first move was pretty basic, really. I just started saying “no” more often. Not a dramatic “no,” just a polite “nah, I’m good tonight” to invites. Friends would hit me up for drinks, gaming sessions, whatever. My usual me would be all over it, FOMO hitting like a truck. But this time, I just felt this deep calm when I declined. It was weird. Like, a good weird. I wasn’t missing out; I was choosing in. Choosing into my own damn space.
Then came the actual doing part. I needed to fill that space, but not with distractions. The goal was to find some kind of quiet in my head. I started with my apartment, first things first. It was a mess, honestly. Clutter everywhere. So I spent a whole weekend just clearing stuff out. Not just cleaning, but proper decluttering. Threw out old junk, donated clothes I hadn’t worn in ages. It felt like I was physically creating space for my mind to breathe too. Every bag of trash, every box for donation, it was like a little weight off my shoulders.
Embracing the Quiet
Once the physical space felt better, I moved to the mental. I tried things I’d always wanted to, but never made time for. You know how it is, always putting it off.
- First up, long walks. Not just around the block, but proper treks. I found this park a bit further out, with a real winding trail. I’d grab some water, my earbuds (but often wouldn’t even turn on the music), and just walk for hours. I started noticing things. The way the light hit the trees, the different bird calls. Stuff I’d literally never paid attention to before.
- Then I dug out my old sketchpad. I used to love drawing when I was a kid. It was rusty, for sure. My first few attempts looked like a kindergartener’s work. But I kept at it. No pressure, no expectations. Just putting pencil to paper. It was slow, kinda frustrating at first, but after a week or two, I actually started enjoying the process. My brain would just shut off everything else when I was focused on shading a leaf or trying to get the perspective right on a building.
- I also got into this super simple cooking thing. Not fancy, gourmet stuff. Just actual, honest-to-god home cooking. I found a few basic recipes online – a lentil soup, a simple roasted chicken with veggies. The act of chopping, stirring, watching ingredients transform, it was grounding. My kitchen started smelling amazing, and it was all stuff I made myself. No takeout, no greasy fast food. Just wholesome stuff.
The biggest shift, though, came from setting boundaries with my phone. Man, that thing is a siren call to distraction. I didn’t delete social media or anything drastic, but I started scheduling my online time. Like, an hour in the morning, an hour in the evening. The rest of the day, it was either on silent, or just in a different room. No more mindless scrolling every five minutes. It was tough at first, felt like I was missing limbs or something. But after a few days, the phantom vibrations stopped, and my brain started getting used to the quiet. I actually read a whole book. A physical book! Haven’t done that in years.
This whole “loner” thing, it wasn’t about being lonely. Far from it. It was about being present. With myself. Before, I was always rushing, always planning the next thing, always thinking about what other people wanted or expected. This time, it was just me and my own damn thoughts, and surprisingly, they weren’t as scary or chaotic as I thought they’d be. They were actually kinda… peaceful.
The Outcome: A Quieter Mind
It’s not like I became a hermit. I still hung out with friends, but it felt different. I was more engaged, actually listening instead of half-listening while thinking about my phone or the next task. My conversations were better, deeper. And when I went back to my quiet apartment, it wasn’t an empty feeling, it was a calm one. A recharging feeling.
I realized that inner peace isn’t something you find outside, or something someone else gives you. It’s built. Piece by piece. You gotta make space for it, actively work on it. And sometimes, for a Pisces like me in week two of this whole journey, that means pulling back, tuning out the world a bit, and just listening to what’s going on inside. It wasn’t about finding a new me, it was about stripping away all the extra crap and finding the me that was always there, just buried under all the noise.
