Digging out of the hole is a hard thing to do once I’ve fallen back in. I can look up and see the brightness and, sometimes, I can even make it to the top.
But, frustratingly, I find myself back at the bottom quite easily. When I am in the hole, lots of thoughts become truths–thoughts such as:
I am so annoying.
I am too needy. Too clingy.
Nobody really wants to be around me anyway.
This weekend, I had a long break. I tried hard to have some self-care time–I even stopped self-isolating for an evening and went out with a friend and had some, gasp, real food. When I was with this friend, I felt my value come back. I felt loved. I laughed. I felt human.
Then, the evening was over. I found myself back at home, laying on my couch, alone, reading a book. My husband was doing his own thing, my kids were in bed.
The loneliness returns. And it stays.
The rest of the long weekend I found myself progressively isolating. I tried hard to be okay and not reach out at all. But, that was a lie I was telling myself.
Truth is, I’ve been in a bad place. And the isolation makes it so much worse.
Most times, when I feel this way, I bug my counselor. But this weekend, I tried hard to give her space, even though she is my “person” right now. I didn’t do a great job with that, either.
I do, though, reach out to a few other people. I get no response.
I feel like an annoyance. Or worse, like maybe those people are angry at me for some made up reason in my head. Because I am too clingy…and I complain too much.
That leads to not reaching out at ALL…and having no one else reach out, either. I think of my friends–and I wonder about everything.
I’ve had moments, snippets of time, when I feel like myself again. Those moments almost always occur when I am around other humans. When I can talk and visit and laugh.
Yet, those moments are just not frequent enough. When I am home, I feel alone. I feel lonely. I want to reach out to others, but I don’t know what to say. I hate to be the one always in need.
So, I don’t reach out. And then I feel more alone. And it begins a vicious cycle.
Yuck. Yuck. Yuck.
When will I ever just be enough for me? When will I ever not need someone else to validate me?