Only the lonely

January 29, 2009

I'm feeling lonely today. The kind of lonely that I would feel no matter who I was with. It's probably my depression. There's this whole speech going on in my head:

"You feel lonely because there really isn't anyone out there who understands you. You're always going to feel lonely. All you do is talk about how rough things are these days anyway. Who wants to be around that?"

And then my mom called me. "How are you doing sweetie?" she asked. I started to lie, "Okay," and then changed my mind and said, "No, not so okay. I'm not doing well Mom. I'm just so lonely," and I began sobbing. I told her how I feel like a burden and feel like people don't want to hear how I'm doing any more. They want to hear I'm fine and then pat me on the back so they don't have to listen to my pain any more. Then, in her wonderful mother wisdom she said the following (not exact quotes - paraphrased by me):

"People do want to hear you're fine Abby. They want more than anything for you to be fine. They have so much compassion for you. People are just so afraid of saying the wrong thing and offending you or they don't know how to put to words what they are feeling for you. But they are feeling compassion for you."

I knew she was right. I knew it. I know that people care about me. I know they don't know what to say either. The people who have said just that to me have touched me deeply. One of my co-workers sent me an e-mail at the beginning of the year. She said, "I'm not very good with words Abby, but I hope you and Jeremy have a good year this year." I knew what she was saying. That she reached out to me to tell me that almost brought me to tears.

My mom and I sat in silence quite a bit during our conversation. Sometimes that's what it takes. Just to sit with another person in their pain. Just to be there (the way Django is for me when I'm in the bathroom too). Hmmm . . . maybe this is a whole new kind of therapy I'm developing - silence therapy (maybe it already exists?!). Just sitting with another person while they feel their pain. No words are required. Just be a witness.

Once again, talking to my family pulled me through my funky mood.