If I were being honest, aside from my family*, I often feel lonely. Sometimes even alone.
I have friends. I get to see them sometimes. I know they care and love me, but as you get older every day life begins to happen. We’re not always in the same place in life, and we struggle with things differently. I Know I can talk to them at any time, but thing is…
The thing IS;
Well back when I first had my son I was fine. I was happy. I loved being his mama. It was my world. I didn’t know. I didn’t know there was a whole outside to this little world that I was acquainted with.
Back then the worst thing would have been spilling my large Diet Coke from McDonald’s. I probably would have cried, ok exaggerating here. I wouldn’t have cried, but it sure would have made the day feel sour.
Now when I spill it, I see it as a thing. I see it as something that while I’m annoyed about, I am just numb to it. I say oh shit, and then clean it up, and hope my kid doesn’t start running around saying “oh shit”. I’m a little sad because I only have half of it left, but it doesn’t matter
I’ve lost far greater things.
Of course I texted a couple people about the incident, but not because I was upset about it. I texted them because I actually thought to myself and saw it happening as I was walking in holding it in a precarious manner. I didn’t spill it in the way I visualized. I spilled it in a completely different way. I said to My son”well that was weird”.
He laughed. I laughed, and said “see we all spill things sometimes, even mama.” Then I cleaned it up and was annoyed because uh it was soda from McDonald’s. They have the most delicious soda ever.
But I brushed it off, because I’ve felt worse.
I don’t mean to take away from anyone that doesn’t know what I’m talking about. I can’t degrade anyone’s pain. We are all struggling with something some days. It’s just some days I feel awfully lonely. I struggle.
I struggle because even though I know I have people that care about what happens to me, but I am still genuinely afraid of rejection.
I’m afraid to ask to make plans. I’d blame it on being an introvert, but also I just get anxious about everything.
I know a lot of this is my fault. I closed in on myself. I didn’t want to care. I wanted to take an eternal nap, or watch every single episode of The Middle in an entire week.
I’m trying now though, taking baby steps, and they frighten me. I feel lonely. I don’t know how to begin to try again. I don’t know where I stand
I just have to keep building up again.
*the one I grew up with, and the one I married in to.