Isolation is such a circular process.
There are times when I need to be alone, so I withdraw into my head – to think, to remember, or to just be.
After a while, I become aware of my isolation, and the loneliness creeps in. I feel heavy – as if I am draped in sadness; and I am convinced that no one could understand how this feels. At these times, I’m so tired of being in pain, I start projecting my self-disgust on other people. I have to force myself to reach out and break the solitude. Even then, the support of family and friends can’t always reach that place deep inside where it hurts.
just hanging on
Getting through the day without breaking down is now a bit easier. When I reach the point where it gets to be too much – I can “hide” in plain sight. I stay in the bubble and try not to think, feel, or deal with anything painful or controversial. It feels safe there: no fatigue or tears, but also no laughter – and no strong emotion of any kind. I just realized today that I spent the last 3 days there.
“The pain of grief never really goes away. Healing is not a cure (there is no cure for grief). Healing means facing the future with acceptance, gratitude and hope.” Grieving God’s Way by Margaret Brownley