Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Feeling Homeless

An Anonymous writer commented on my last post:

"You wrote "I want so badly to die." I'd like to challenge you by making an adjustment to that statement: "I want so badly to be loved and respected." It's what we all want."

This comment sounded like my pdoc talking...and you are sort of right.

In 2005 my Mom's Dr told her to have X-mas now because her end was near. Tomorrow is the 3rd anniversary of the last X-mas I had with my Mom. She died 5 days later.

The only place I ever called "home" was my Mom's house. It wasn't even my childhood home, because we moved all the time, and because when my Dad left us she had to move a couple more times. However, everywhere my Mom lived was "home" to me...it was her that made it so.

At my Mom's I could totally relax. I never had to ask if I could eat something, or make something, or do something. I always knew I could do what ever I wanted and I'd be loved and cared for and respected no matter what, no matter how I was feeling, no matter how depressed I was, no matter how little I was able to manage. She always loved me and told me so.

I guess in a way I am lucky. Some people may never have someone like that in their lives. As I was headed to my house and my husband, on the ferry from my sister's tonight I began thinking about love and home.

My little sister like to see me for short (very short) periods of time, but it becomes clear after a few days that she wants to be alone. My middle sister loves me, but she too wants me to go after a couple days, and her evil husband makes it so difficult to relax that I want to leave the second I get their. At both my sister's houses I feel like a "guest"; the need to ask if I can have something to eat, or make a coffee, or have a nap is made clear by the way they are. I never feel at home. I always feel I am on borrowed time.

At my Dad's it is even worse. Whereas when I used to stay at my Mom's I always assumed I could eat, drink, play with, watch, or do anything I wanted...it was home so all those were a given. At my Dad's I feel like I am a guest in a stranger's house. To the point that I feel the need to ask for a glass of water, rather than pour myself one.

I realized today that since my Mom passed away I have no one who loves me. I am desperately alone. I don't mean people who read my blog and care about me, I mean family, husband, or friends I see on a regular basis. I am so alone.

Even in my own house I feel on edge all the time because I am not a good wife, housekeeper, lover. I am criticized and made to feel bad about my abilities. I don't want sex, because I feel unloved, I cannot take care of my home, in part because I feel distanced from it.

I am, what I always feared I'd be: homeless, loveless, alone.

I watched the movie : "Into the Wild" last night, and I felt almost identical to the protagonist, except, even in an existential crisis, he knew where he was going. I feel lost.

On the ferry today it seemed like death is the easiest solution. I have tried and tried since before and after my Mom died to find my place in life. Maybe for some of us there is no place. Perhaps for some of us being alone is our destiny. I do not think I can live with that.

God, I miss my Mom so much it is unbearable. I miss her love, her non-judgemental and completely compassionate caring. The only place I feel is remotely similar is in my pdoc's office, but are 50 minutes a week of thoughtfulness and caring enough caring to sustain a person? I don't think so.


Border Life said...

Response #1

What a lovely picture. So much resemblance.

It's easy to see why you'd feel alone. Loneliness in a relationship to me seems much more lonely than loneliness when alone.

The deal is that 50 minutes a week sustains you until you find your way to a life worth living.

I'm all DBT all the time, and just recently got to the point where I want to "not die". I can't say I'm running around screaming "I want to live" or even whispering it for that matter... I'm still in "Stage 1" of DBT.

We are all different, so I don't want to say, see, if it happened to me, it can happen to you, there is hope...well, o.k., maybe I do want to say that, but realize we all have our own path.

I hope you, along with your therapist are able to address this intense pain, which seems to be exacerbated by the anniversary of losing your mother.

I'm so sorry for the loss of your mother. (((aqua))) <3 BL

Response #2

No. NO. no. NO. NO! You are way too cool to leave this world prematurely.

Whoever said the solution is the easiest solution? And are you sure you have identified the correct problem?

I mean, we could have gone through many a class with Cliff notes or buying papers, editing them and turning them in, and gotten good marks. Pretty easy. Was the goal to merely graduate?

Right now, you seem to have overwhelming loneliness. You are looking to solutions to that.

I know it's hard to construct meaning in an essentially meaningless world. I know it's awful to be in a relationship where there is name-calling. I know depression, at it's mildest, sucks out loud.

I do think that your mind would be a terrible thing to waste!!!

I want to staplegun your 100 positive things list to your forehead (though, you couldn't read it then, could you? hmmmm) ah, but that is just a reaction on my selfish part.

I want you here. Damnit.

Lola Snow said...

Border Life said everything that I was thinking and more. I want to have some magic words for you Aqua I really do. All I can say is depression is tainting your outlook on life, life is not the cold, lonely bleak place that you percieve it to be at the moment.

Please stay safe

Lola x

Harriet said...

I also love the photo you posted. Your mom sounds wonderful, and I'm so sorry for your loss.

Your loneliness is all encompassing right now, I can feel that in your writing. But from reading your blog I can tell you are a wonderful person with a great ability to be helpful to others.

Please please try to hang in there. This is a really hard time of year for you (which I can kind of relate to as my father died this time of year as well).

Handsome B. Wonderful said...

I know the feeling of trying to relax in some peoples' houses. It's like trying to live in a museum.

I very much agree with your statement that it seems like some people (us) just don't seem to have a place in this world.

I often feel like a guest here. Just a visitor who took the wrong path and ended up on Earth.

Robot Dancers said...

I can definitely relate to the feeling that you'll never really find you place or find that person who makes it feel like every place they are is your place. I'm sorry that you feel that way. I'm sorry that anyone has to feel that way.

From what I've read so far I most certainly think that the world needs good people and deep thinkers like you. Don't give up on yourself or on others.

Whenever that feeling gets a hold of me I just remember that the fact that I can't see the light behind the cloud doesn't mean that it's not there.

jcat said...

Hugs. I hope today was manageable for you.


Polar Bear said...

I am deeply sad for you. I'm sad that you lost someone who loved you so very much. I cannot imagine what that is like. I cannot imagine what it is like to "go home", to somewhere you feel loved and safe and so comfortable.

But I do understand the loneliness you face now. I know how bleak and empty a life that can be. I've lived like this my entire life, you'd think I would be used to this by now.

You say:
"The only place I feel is remotely similar is in my pdoc's office, but are 50 minutes a week of thoughtfulness and caring enough caring to sustain a person? I don't think so."

No, it's definately not enough.