I haven’t been on here for 16 years. In that time I’ve grown old. Yes, it happens. Most of the time, I’m ok. But nothing has really changed. I’ve just learned to live with it. I guess that’s what most of us do. Every word I have ever read from anyone here has resonated in my soul. All of the thoughts, all of the feelings…you speak them, and I wish I could hold you in my arms and just let you cry until you find hope and love and peace. We are not alone. But, why are we so alone? I still don’t understand, I never will. Why, when there are so many of us lost souls, do we suffer alone? I know we have all tried our best to be strong, to “change” who we are for a world that does not understand. But, some days it’s just a little much…things come flooding back or flooding in, And that old helpless feeling returns. Drowning, again, in the flood. I wish it would just wash me away.
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Holy Moly, Cynthia–
It’s been a minute–one epic, digressive minute! So wild to log onto this site (which I’d all but forgotten about) and see activity from one of my “cohort” dating from as recently as 4 months ago. I recognize your bright eyes and the kindly tone of your posts.
I first joined this community 15 years back and, like you, must concede that the interval has given me a… patina. My melancholy has waxed and waned, thinned and thickened around the other facts in my life. I’ve had some good times and some damned hard ones. This particular moment sits somewhere in the middle, but difficult changes loom on the horizon and I’m tired.
Anyway, I have no idea if you’ll see this or I, your reply. Typing here really does feel like whistling in the dark. I wanted you to know that your words moved me. It is absolute madness that so many of us are walled up in our aloneness, which is, in and of itself, such a profoundly unifying and heart-softening experience (possibly because it is so unnatural).
The special hell of depression is how it makes you forget how much company you have in your suffering. Thank you for reminding me that it’s paradoxically when I’m feeling most blasted, bruised, less-than, and excommunicated that I’m actually just neck-deep in a struggle that is ancient and general. It feels easier to connect with compassion and courage when I think of it like that.
Sincerely, thank you. I hope you are riding in higher waters than when you posted. I appreciate you!
Yours,
Annie