“Sometimes I sit alone under the stars and think of the galaxies inside my heart and truly wonder if anyone will ever want to make sense of all that I am.”
- Christopher Poindexter
I am lonely. Unbearably lonely.
I have found myself talking to my 12 year old son in the car just to have someone to chat to. Its rather awkward, because he's 12, and a boy, and doesn't really care. Although since he loves me a whole lot he tries really hard to be engaged. I give him mad respect for that. My husband, Super Stud, although a total Rockstar and who does some lovely things for me in total selflessness, is not very chatty - at all - and seems to have little need for friendships.
It is common knowledge that I am rather prolific on Facebook, but in all honestly my online presence is the only social interaction I have - and even that is very one sided. I just spew my life and thoughts out in countless little posts. It is utterly depressing, and not satisfying at all. I may be quite introverted, but I crave and thrive on human connection. Why do I exist otherwise?
Truthfully, I don't have a lot of time - but anyone is welcome to dinner, to cook with me, to drink with me, hell, to be my penpal...whatever - Let's get real together.
The result is that I am internalising everything I feel and want to say and as a consequence, despite my regular Facebook word vomits and shares, I am drinking too much - alone, eating too much - alone, watching too much, in order to try to escape myself. Daily I mentally dabble with the idea of running away to a place where people really don't know me. To max out Super Stud's credit card and jump on a plane and disappear.
My kids are keeping me going each day. Keeping me HERE. They need ME, they love ME, they think I am funny and they want to hang out with me....all the time! I wish that satisfied me too, but it doesn't.
The way I feel about my depression is the way I felt about living with domestic violence - its not bad enough. Its cyclic. I have plenty of good, busy days. I don't need my head shrunk, I can cope. I can get out of bed, I feed my family, I clean, I do my homework, I exercise. The bad days don't last.
Instead it's a fight to do all the things I do and I can't breathe....