Feeling Alone

When I woke up yesterday I felt like crap.  I’d had bad dreams, and just generally woke up in a bad mood.  This happens quite a lot.  Sometimes I can get on with my day and start to feel better.  Sometimes I can’t.  Yesterday was one of those days when I couldn’t.  I couldn’t do much of anything.  Just sleep, and stare at the ceiling when I was awake.  I tried to do some crochet, but couldn’t manage more than a few stitches.

I tried to message a friend, and realised that I’d barely spoken to him in weeks.  When I went on to the message platform, the last few messages were from me.  And he hadn’t said anything in ages.  I have quite a few acquaintances, but not many close friends.  Recently I feel like they’ve all gone away.

I’m not sure what’s going on with that particular friend.  He has depression too, and lives several hundred miles away.  He tends to drift away when his depression is playing up, but this feels like more than that.  I feel like he’s drifting away for good.

I know people who’ve had a best friend for their entire lives.  My sister has had her best friend for nearly 16 years.  I haven’t.  Over the years I’ve met people who were my best friend.  People I confided everything in, and I thought we’d be bosom buddies our whole lives.  One in particular I was convinced we’d be little old ladies together.  But they all go away.  I’m not entirely sure why, but we fall out.  And they go away.

Everyone goes away.  I’m not particularly dense.  I know that I have separation and anxiety issues, but knowing that I have them doesn’t make them any easier to live with.  And it doesn’t make me any less scared.  I want to live alone, with my own space and my own decisions, but I don’t want to BE alone.  I feel alone right now.  A few months ago I could count my close friends on the fingers of one hand.  Since then, one (and her husband) has gone very quiet.  She also lives far away, and I know that she’s busy.  But things aren’t the same as they were.  Another is the aforementioned friend with depression.  And the third only lives in the next town over, but he has a job now and he’s very busy, and I’ve barely heard from him either.  I feel like I can now count my close friends on the fingers of a closed fist.

I have my sister.  I love her dearly, and we have much in common, and I can talk to her about anything.  I do consider her one of my best friends, but she’s my sister so it doesn’t quite count.  Besides, she has her husband and her brand new (adorably beautiful) baby.

With the issues that are going on in my life right now, and the problems that I’m trying desperately to cope with, I feel alone.  Completely and utterly alone.  I KNOW undoubtedly that I’m not.  But that feeling never quite goes away.  And sometimes it’s a lot stronger than others.  Like yesterday.  And on those days I find it almost impossible to cope with.

It was a hard night.  After sleeping most of the day, I woke up at midnight and watched some television.  And I cried.  I cried and cried.  I begged God, and Buddha and every other deity that might possibly exist, to let me be at peace.  I prayed.  And I wrote a letter to my friends, that I will probably never post.  I sat and I stared at my Christmas tree and cursed it for not having quite enough magic to pull me out of the fog I was in.  I cuddled my cat and I cried, and I wished desperately for everything to stop.

At 3am I was hungry, but couldn’t muster the mood or the energy to go downstairs and get some food.  So I ate the junk food I had in my room.  And then I cried some more.  I thought about doing some origami.  I thought about doing some more crochet.  I thought about starting a nice joyful Christmas cross stitch.  But I didn’t do any of those things.  I cried.  I cried, and then I slept.

Depression really, really blows.

I see a lot online from people that suffer mental illnesses about how they’re treated.  I’ve heard of many stories, and I have many stories of my own, of being told to “just cheer up”.  It isn’t as easy as that.  It really, really isn’t.

I’ve have people make comments about how they work all day, while I just sit and craft.  But coping with these thoughts, and these feelings.  It’s hard work.  It’s very hard work.  I’m so tired all the time.  I’m tired inside and out.  And I feel like I’m running out of things to prop me up.


About Colette Horsburgh

A 30-something creator/baker/writer/doodler/crafter living with several (but not enough) scatty animals.
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