As I was starting to walk home coat-less from Church in the very gentle rain, a passing car slowed down, the driver opened the door, and asked "Ola, want a ride home?". I hastily shook my head and said no. I didn't need a ride home, but even more so, I was horrified of the thought of getting into that car with him. It would have left me too vulnerable, I would have been too close to somebody else, I would have been too available for a short bit of idle conversation, I would not have been private enough.
One could interpret the song closing the church services as applicable to my situation:
"Nu är livet här, jag borde hoppa på
Jag har inget att förlora, men jag stannar här ändå
Jag har vant mig vid att vänta, jag kan vänta länge än"
"Now life is here, I should jump on
I have nothing to lose, yet I remain here
I'm so used to waiting, I can wait longer still"
Way back in my youth - it might have been at my graduation, but it might have been on some other occasion, I am not sure - there was a hymn on the congratulations card from my parents, hymn 90 in the Swedish book of hymns. I've always carried that one with me, even though I am not very good at following its advice. The first couple of lines are as follows:
"Blott i det öppna har du en möjlighet.
Låser du om dig kvävs och förtvinar du."
"Only out in the open, you have your possibility,
if you lock yourself in, you'll become smothered and atrophied.")
I don't know how to not put barriers around myself. How to not lock others out. People are too scary. I am terrified of them. It is enough of a struggle, going to Church and taking passive part in services and study groups. I don't know how to be part of their community, how to open myself up. They might welcome me, but I lack the ability to accept that welcome.