Have you ever been surrounded by people yet felt totally alone? That's how I've felt the last few days. I interact with people all day long: student advising meetings, phone calls, emails, chit chatter in the stairwells. The constant flow of conversation fills my head with garble and most days I barely have time to think. But when I get in the funk all I need to do is sit back in my chair and feel the lump of loneliness in the pit of my stomach.
Little things make my heart ache. At the height of my sadness on Friday night I picked up the local paper and let the tears roll down my cheeks while reading about "Mary's Relay for Life Team." The day before that I broke down over a Today show piece on photographers who capture families and their babies who die within days of their birth. (Who wouldn't cry over that one?)
A psychologist would tell me I'm depressed and suggest meds or more sessions. Andy might agree with this rapid remedy to my mood swings. I don't think therapy or drugs will take away this feeling and I bet you've felt this way too. I long for the past, for my childhood and my youth. I miss curling up in the recliner next to my mom to watch TV, lip-syncing to Tiffany after dinner and twirling around on the tree limb outside my grandmother's house. I miss my grandma and my aunt and am sad that they are not alive to see me be a mom. I know this is why the lump rests in my throat as I go about my day, hiding my sadness behind busy work and household chores.
It passes, the loneliness. There's no time to think about the past with all that busy work and chores. And with being a mom, a friend, a wife. I've already picked a tree in the yard which will become my and Caroline's secret "house". We'll have rock cameras and be photographers, taking pictures of birds and sunsets. We'll play mad libs. We'll get in the car and go nowhere, letting our imaginations drive us to exotic places. I'll let her sit on the floor in the bathroom at night when I bathe, my only down time of the day, and listen to her stories and adventures, dreams and hopes for the future. These actions will melt my heartache and take away my loneliness, at least until those occasional funks come back to remind me where I've been and what I've got to lose.
Little things make my heart ache. At the height of my sadness on Friday night I picked up the local paper and let the tears roll down my cheeks while reading about "Mary's Relay for Life Team." The day before that I broke down over a Today show piece on photographers who capture families and their babies who die within days of their birth. (Who wouldn't cry over that one?)
A psychologist would tell me I'm depressed and suggest meds or more sessions. Andy might agree with this rapid remedy to my mood swings. I don't think therapy or drugs will take away this feeling and I bet you've felt this way too. I long for the past, for my childhood and my youth. I miss curling up in the recliner next to my mom to watch TV, lip-syncing to Tiffany after dinner and twirling around on the tree limb outside my grandmother's house. I miss my grandma and my aunt and am sad that they are not alive to see me be a mom. I know this is why the lump rests in my throat as I go about my day, hiding my sadness behind busy work and household chores.
It passes, the loneliness. There's no time to think about the past with all that busy work and chores. And with being a mom, a friend, a wife. I've already picked a tree in the yard which will become my and Caroline's secret "house". We'll have rock cameras and be photographers, taking pictures of birds and sunsets. We'll play mad libs. We'll get in the car and go nowhere, letting our imaginations drive us to exotic places. I'll let her sit on the floor in the bathroom at night when I bathe, my only down time of the day, and listen to her stories and adventures, dreams and hopes for the future. These actions will melt my heartache and take away my loneliness, at least until those occasional funks come back to remind me where I've been and what I've got to lose.
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