There is nothing worse in this world than to be surrounded by people and feel lonely.
I should know. That could very well be the sum up of my life for these past few months.
Do not get me wrong: I know I am lucky. I have family and friends who love me and stand by me. I have two beautiful children who fill up my days (and nights). I have a caring husband who works hard to provide what is in all fairness a fortunate and blessed life. We are lucky. I am lucky.
And yet, I find myself sad all the time.
For a while now, I have days when I want to just sit in a corner and cry from the moment I wake up until I finally fall asleep at night. Sometimes I do it. I just lock myself in my room, in the dark, and cry my eyes out.
Why?
I have no idea. I just have this overpowering feeling of sadness and loneliness that takes over me. It is completely unreasonable and definitely untrue. And yet, I cannot shake it.
This loneliness is lodged in my soul, stuck inside my chest and even though I am aware that I am not alone, I cannot help but feel so deeply lonely.
Maybe no one is really ever happy. Maybe I need to reassess my definition of happiness. Maybe I am stuck on some romanticized version of a childhood idea that I did not outgrow. Or maybe my hormones are all over the place. Or maybe I am just tired. Sleep deprived. Or maybe I am just a mom. Or just a special needs mom. Or just a human who feels trapped.
Maybe it is a weird combo of all of the above.
Either way, I am a firm believer in sharing these thoughts. First of all, it is therapeutic for me to put these things out there.
But also, I am certain I cannot be the only one. But we are usually ashamed of these thoughts. Because, well, why on earth would we feel so depressed when we are indeed so lucky? That seems outrageous to say the least, especially in light of all that has been happening in the world. Real suffering. Real struggles. Wars. Deaths.
In spite of all of these realities, the fact of the matter remains: we are entitled to feel however way we feel and no one has the right to shame us. Pain is pain. Yes, everything is relative. But it does not mean that our feelings are not worthy of being acknowledged and addressed only because (we realize) there are far worse pains out there.
I have not spoken about this much so far because I simply do not know where to start or how to explain what I feel.
But yesterday I cried so much I actually ended up verbalizing some of this anxiety with specifics. I guess I could consider this a breakthrough somehow.
I had a long chat with Hubby who understandably feels helpless. How can he help if even I cannot identify the cause of all of this? How can we find solutions to a problem that has no shape or form and that cannot be defined?
All I know is that I have this lump in my throat most of the time. We all know that lump. It is this huge ball of sadness that somehow squeezes all the way up to our head and ends up in uncontrollable waterfalls (and migraines).
I have always suffered from what I consider to be silly anxiety obsessions like my loved ones dying suddenly. Or ISIS attacking us and torturing my kids. Or wars destroying the lives of all those I care for.
Jad has heightened these sensitivities. I keep seeing scenes of him being bullied, abused and even tortured and I do not know how to stop them. They are not real and hopefully they will never become real. But I cannot help obsessing about them. They make my nights difficult while I am already sleep deprived enough.
None of this helps.
None of this is reasonable.
None of this is real.
I understand that. My brain knows the truth. And yet...
So I went to a professional a few months ago. I am trying to get to the bottom of this anxiety and the depression that has ensued.
These things take time and sometimes I just decide to fake it til I make it. And it works for a little while. I am not faking happiness. When I laugh, I laugh wholeheartedly. I think I am just faking being interested or involved. And somehow it translates into good moments. And other times I just curl up in the dark.
You cannot win them all. But you can be proud of small victories.
So until I no longer need to fake it, I will keep on doing what I have to do and hope for the best. Hope is what matters. I have not lost that yet and that is fortunate. That is one thing to hang on to. The conviction that things will improve somehow.
And if you find yourself curled up, crying in the dark, please, please, talk to someone. It is not OK to be miserable. It is not a higher calling to sacrifice for others while your inner light is dying inside. It is not brave to ignore your own self because others need you.
What is courageous is to take a look at yourself and decide you deserve better.
So go ahead and believe that ❤
Mamma Mia+Jad
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