I’m really sad lately. Desolately sad. It’s not like it was before where there was so much stress and I knew a lot of it was my lack of success and my necessarily empty job. this is different. Now I just feel so pointless. Bereft. I don’t really actually try to think about it, but a hundred times a day I wonder,
Why is this me? Why am I me? Why did I end up like this?
Why do I have no one who actually really wants me, loves me, wishes for only me? Why is there no one who sees this? Sees, really sees me?
How did I never have a child? I only wanted the best for my child’s situation, but the situations got worse and worse and then there was nothing, and now all I have is a strange old form where I used to be, and too old a body to have anyone come from me. And even if there were someone else’s child, it would not be for me, it would not be from me nor for me, because I would always know it was going to wonder who made it. I would love it, but it wouldn’t necessarily love me back, even if it were from me, anyway. But I miss it. I miss the little things I would have had. Small shoes, little wrists on a swing, a happy inexplicable feeling. A feeling that no matter what, I would have a need, a point, a conscience, a consciousness, that there would be no choosing whether to go on or not. Not like now.
I can’t tell anyone this; they don’t have anything they could say that would help and it would just upset them. Especially the ones with children. But the more I test the people I love in small ways, the more I realize I am peripheral to them now. I really don’t need them because they really don’t much need me. And yet I need someone, something, all the time, deeply, and it’s never going to be met. I can’t fill up the hole, it’s just too big, and nothing they will say will make it disappear. It just keeps bothering and paining me all the time, and I just want out of this whole framework that makes me so constantly troubled with it, so aching all the time, so longing for that kind of thing I could just stop and be calm in. That calm is just gone. I knew it for a little while, but it wasn’t true. It just left. When I try to mention anything of it, it’s just too big for them to discuss with me, I’m just too much weight, too difficult. I just want a quiet safe place where they will all let me be the real person I was meant to be, and I am wonderful inside and not hurting constantly, and that place is not here, not here anywhere. The place where I am seen. I feel certain I am someone else, not this. Not here. Not like this.
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