This recovery business is lonely.
I mean, I’m surrounded by people nearly all the time (except at home . . . and I seldom regret the choice to live alone) but it’s a different kind of lonely. The thoughts that go through my head make me feel like a freak. I don’t feel like I can ever answer the question “How are you?” honestly. Even if I wanted to tell people what’s going on with me, the fear of being judged by said people, or hurting said people stops me.
I can’t even cry out loud anymore. I could be crying my hardest next to you, and if you didn’t look at me, you’d never know.
As much as having people around who are going through similar struggles helps in the “I can relate” sense, nobody is there to hold my hand when things get rough. I’m not complaining – I’ve made my choices. Nobody can fight my battles for me, but sometimes I wish I had the courage to say, “This is what is wrong, this is what I’m going through, this is what I need from you” and to have someone there to hear it.
It’s a lonely world. Give hugs. Everybody needs one now and again, and chances are they won’t tell you when they need one most. And listen. Not just with your ears, but with your eyes and your whole being, too. People tell you a lot about themselves without speaking a word. No one is alone, but everyone is lonely sometimes. Let’s make it easier on each other.