Lonely and Sad

Yeah, you’re right. This is a place for me to “dump it all”. Well, here it is.

I’m lonely.

Profoundly lonely and sad.

By this time in my life, I wanted the Fairy Tale. The soul-mate husband, TWO kids, tidy little house in Mayberry.

What I got was a bizarre relationship, a lovely but possessed house in the country, and one amazing beautiful child. And a neurotic dog, a psychotic cat and a mentally imbalanced cockatiel.

It comes to this: I know that life doesn’t follow a mapped-out route. It would be boring if it did that. But looking back, I’m seeing now where I went wrong… or did I? If I’d made different choices, I wouldn’t have Hot Rod. And how can I have regrets when I have him? But that doesn’t ease the pain, or fill this deep emptiness within.

But here I am, staring down the barrel of God-Help-Me-Forty, and what do I have to show for it? My two BFF’s are hundreds or thousands of miles away. My “little sister” has started her new life in a new town with her old and new friends, even my husband is ‘moving on’, living in another town… but tethered here, and hanging on as tight as he can. And I’m here, isolated in the country, the friends that I’ve tried to make have turned out to be mere acquaintences (with one glowing exception, but she’s crazy-busy and we never see each other). The people I talk with the most are my brothers, and two ladies I’ve never even met, who live in another state! I’m here, with more extra weight than I ever imagined in my wildest dreams. I’m here, feeling blindsided, even now – almost a year after The Wreck.

I sit and, in my “downest” moments, wonder what the hell do I do now? I have skills, but no work experience from the past five years (because it takes no skill whatsoever to raise a child and run a house). I have a ridiculous set of parameters within which I’m forced to live, so I getting a job is a very intimidating task, one that so far, has not panned out. I’m in a marriage that doesn’t feed my soul. It has yielded what I think might be a wonderful friendship, but marriage should be more than that, and so far, it hasn’t been. I long for friends with whom I can share a kitchen table and a cup of tea and giggle and chat and argue and cry and be silly and just be.

I sit, and in my “dreamy” moments, I’m catapulted beyond this current situation into a frothy future, where there is a happy go lucky child, financial security, love of friends, a sweet little house, and a partner with whom I can be me, and, believe it or not, a career. It’s a lovely dream, one that feeds me and motivates me to ‘just keep swimming’.

I move, in my motivated moments, and still feel the weight of loneliness and sadness, but know instinctively that to sit and do nothing is to give in to the darkness. So I move. I get to the gym. I shove things around the house and call it cleaning. And I plan. Plans move painfully slow, and I want them to move quickly. But they’re slow, and I have to accept that.

I hope this movement will yield results. My life isn’t a speedboat anymore – fast, light, maneuverable. It’s a massive aircraft carrier. One that takes hours and miles to turn. I’m making the adjustments. I hope I can see it through the turn.