There were two main periods of my life where I felt the deep pain of being alone.
The first was my being ostracized throughout most of my elementary years, from grades three to eight. I moved from a different school where I had established friendships. I literally didn’t recover until high school when an established friend and I reunited.
In elementary, I sometimes was able to keep friendships with “new” students, but as they developed more friendships, they realized that I generally wasn’t welcome, and eventually didn’t feel I was worth bothering to defend.
I had no diagnosis back then, but kids don’t need someone’s diagnosis to tell when that person is “different.”
The second was just after high school and was slightly different. I moved out west to live with my partner of the time. They were very jealous and controlling, and it was difficult to make friends while walking on eggshells.
Again, I was isolated. It was different because I had chosen it at first, but both events were similar in that the people involved used me in abusive ways. They each made me feel like I had no other choice, that I was stuck, and that I didn’t deserve better.
I feel alone lately, but it’s neither good nor bad.
A few years ago, I moved out of the city, because it was becoming too hard to afford it alone. On the heels of making that decision, I became single. And later, slowly, almost all of the rest of my close relationships disintegrated as well.
I’ve never fully recovered from that. I don’t make ‘real life’ friends very well, and I never have.
And everything is too much now, anyways. I’m barely able to put anything into the friendships I have been able to maintain.
I’ve been alone for a week now, but it’s neither good nor bad.
It’s just normal.
I’m tired, and some days I feel like there is nothing to life beyond working and exhaustion.
The government says I don’t fit their definition of “a person with a disability.”
I think: do people *without* disabilities usually spend their entire spring break in bed?
I keep saying that I’m fine, because my mood is okay. But antidepressants have not cured my fatigue.
I’m tired, and if work and exhaustion are the only two components of life that I’m allowed to have, what even is the point?
Anyways, I’m okay.
I’m worried about the hearing (re: disability status) ruling against me.
I’m worried about ever getting out of debt if I can’t force myself to “try harder.”
I want to do a lot of things that I should have finished already.
I feel like a failure more often than I admit to.
And I think I need a massage. But I’m okay.
It’s a paradox. People drive me crazy, but I don’t like being alone.