I can’t feel anything small.
For the last month or so, right on track for the last two years, I have been hit with the winter blues.
Or, I don’t know, perhaps it is something more.
It’s that deep, dark hole.
The one where I stand at the bottom, looking up at the light, unable to climb out on my own. It’s vivid. But it isn’t unfamiliar.
It isn’t as scary of a place as it once was.
No…nowadays, I am used to landing here from time to time.
It isn’t exactly welcome…but it definitely isn’t unknown.
Lately, I feel lonely. Everything feels bigger.
Despite cognitively knowing that there are people who like me. Despite, at times, being surrounded by people.
It is this internalized belief. I am alone.
It is a permeating sadness. One that, day in and day out, seeps out of my pores.
Music suddenly means more. It pierces my heart.
Alone time is spent ruminating…how are the people I think about? Are they happy? Do they think of me? What do they think of me?
Is it as horrible as I imagine?
And then…then there is that four letter word: H.O.P.E.
Ever the optimist, I hope. Moments of connection present themselves and I dare to hope that connection will magically be there.
…Only to find myself, again, disappointed.
All around me, people say, “It isn’t about YOU!!!” or “You are so HARD on yourself!!”
Believing that is hard.
How can it not be about me?
An embrace, turned cold. A longing, unfulfilled.
I want to be enough.
For him.
For me.
For us.
And, if it is not about me, then I maybe, just maybe, it isn’t even about my “enough-ness.”
And what does that say about us?
How do I ever go about fixing that?
And…if it isn’t mine to fix????
What do I do, then?
A Brave Mess 