It’s funny how little things can bring up some big emotions. Here I sit, almost 2am, watching the final season of “How I Met Your Mother” that I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch yet because it was “our show”. I haven’t watched “Breaking Bad”, and even watching “The Walking Dead” is difficult. My head hurts, my body hurts, and my heart hurts. For no other reason than remembering everything I lost. I am not just referring to the relationship that messed me up mentally more than any other relationship I have had, but everything that I felt I lost at the same time. My life, my youth. My everything. Being diagnosed with any autoimmune disease is hard. Beyond hard.
The past few days I have felt really alone. I honestly WANT to be alone, simply because it seems the people around me just aren’t there. They are somewhere else, and that is ok. I have been ignored, yelled at, pestered, questioned, and exhausted the last few weeks. I have been in the hospital, in and out of the Dr office, and pumped full of drugs. I have curled up in pain due to what we later found out was an obstruction. I have missed so much work, I am about to lose all my benefits… which is what pays for my medications. My radiator had to be replaced. Then a fuse blew. And my life at work has gotten hostile due to my absence. I am aware that others think I get special treatment and should have been fired already. I can hear them talk, and see the looks. I just ignore them because they have no idea who I am, and they have no bearing on any decision.
After a terrible few weeks, three of my sisters decided to throw me a “girly night”. When they arrived with snacks, pedicure items, nail polish, and so many other pampering items, I was so surprised! I can no longer drink, which has been our favorite sister past time for YEARS, so they decided to do the traditional girls night theme. Though, they did bring beer for themselves. They also brought Cujo. My sister Blondie’s (not her real name) awesome rottweiler, who scares the living bejeesus out of my rabbit. Cujo just turned 10, and has no interest in my terrified little buddy, however she was not happy with this situation and spent the entire time in her burrow in her habitat. It was such a loving and happy gesture, and was SO much fun that we decided to commit ourselves to it every month or two. I was so pleased with my overdone nails, silly toenail polish and awesome face mask thingy they bought me… until… I got a message from one of my other sisters.
My mom had three girls. The oldest who we shall call “Hippy”, one we shall call “Tinky” and myself. Hippy and Tinky both tend to feel like the odd man out. The “black sheep” of the family. Them, along with a few other siblings, tend to feel left out of family functions and often forgot about. With 19 kids in my family, I can imagine there are plenty of family occurrences that I am not only not invited to, but will never know about. Such is life. I don’t take it personally, as I know my family loves me. That being said.. Hippy apparently does not feel the same.
I have spent the last two days dealing with drama between Hippy and my sister we shall call “Retro” (She looks so good in retro styled outfits and hair). Retro and Hippy had a falling out a few years ago over their personal lives clashing together in a way that turning into a car wrecking, plane crashing, train wrecking mess! It was nasty. And I tried to stay out of it because I know how both of them are. Hippy is very set in her ways, though she thinks she is very enlightened and open minded. She really is not. I know she means well, so I tend to just ignore what she says to me, though half of it is actually really mildly insulting. She doesn’t mean harm, and truly thinks she is helping. I get this. Retro does not, and takes the insults as insults. Which I completely understand as well. Retro, on the other hand, can be downright mean (much like myself) and really go at it when she is angered. Long story as short as I can make it… they have not made up, and I honestly don’t think they ever will.
Hippy has taken this loving gesture by three of my awesome sisters and turned it into some kind of rejection of her as a sister. She took a great night that I enjoyed so much, spending time with my family, and made it about her. I have missed being able to do anything because of my health so much! My sisters that came, Blondie, Retro, and Beatles (We used to sing Beatles songs at a goth club on karaoke night) took the time and effort to do this for me. However Hippy has been harassing me for two days now, venting about her falling out with Retro. I have been trying my hardest to be as supportive as I can, but I am drained. I just want to tell her to leave me alone and let me be, because her emotional issues with the family is not my problem, but I can’t. I love all of my siblings, and I can’t just push them away when they are hurting. But I am hurting as well, and I am so frustrated that a kind thing 1/3 of my sisters did for me turned into an ordeal about Hippy. I can’t understand why she would do that. Why she can’t allow me to actually be friends with my other sisters as well without feeling as though she is being thwarted. We are all adults.. I don’t get it.
So, here I am at 2am. Alone, watching a TV show that is bringing up old feelings of being lost, and losing love. Recovering from my Monday routine of physical therapy and work.. dealing with my life as it is, and feeling so anxious over others problems. I haven’t felt this alone in awhile. It’s odd because I want to be alone at the same time. Alone because I can’t stand to hear about other people’s problems that I can’t fix. Alone because I am tired of feeling like I have to constantly defend myself. Alone because I am tired of life as it stands right now.
I don’t like being lonely… but I like being alone. I like being alone because of all of the above! Because I am not missing him, but missing a life before I was like I am now. A life where I could move around. Go hiking if I wanted to. To be free to run, and jump around. To be healthy enough to drink, dammit! A am not mourning him.. I am mourning me. Over time I have realized that what I thought was lingering love is actually not love at all. It is the feelings I harbor about my life. He just happened to be there when my life started to fall apart. When my health went downhill. When I found out that I had the same illness as my grandmother, but diagnosed 30 years before she was, he was there. Only he wasn’t. He had been long gone far before that camping trip. In all honesty, he never was there. I was alone in that battle, and I was trying to convince myself that I would find the solution. That I had him. That I wasn’t alone at all, when in all reality I was. I have been so afraid of being alone since. Alone in my illness. Alone in my pain. Alone in all that I do.
There is a difference between being alone and lonely. Tonight I am enjoying being alone.. but I am lonely. I do not want anyone to fill this void of loneliness. I want to feel the loneliness. I want to accept it. Because if I can’t get rid of this anxiety welling inside me, anxiety that is keeping me up far too late… I won’t ever be ok.
So, here I sit, now 2:11am. Trying to throw off all the bullshit I endured the last two days. How I want to be alone, and possibly stay alone. I am reminded of how selfish and hurtful other human can be, simply because others were kind in a way that they didn’t see fit. How one can attach feelings in all the wrong places. How I just want to be alone.
I really just want to be alone.