Sadness of the Soul

 

Sara McLachlan: Better Broken 

I am learning that there are different types of sadness. It's hard to explain, but what I'm feeling lately is more than different from anything I've ever felt. That moment when you realize there was never really anyone on your side, and that feeling of being alone was because you were always left to your own devices to get through whatever happened to you. If you had asked me a few weeks ago, I would have always held some kind of hope that my mother loved me and, in her own way, cared for and wanted the best for me. With the shattering of that little piece of hope I had held onto, things are very different; there is a sadness like nothing else I have ever experienced. It's a sad experience on a soul level, one that's so deep and heavy, I find myself clinging to every little moment around me. I find myself thinking about the girl that I was at 13, and just how terribly she was treated, and she just kept going.  I have blamed her for so long, and with that no longer an option, there is a profound sadness in the way she has had to live her life. That she never received any care, that no one ever understood her heart, is truly painful. I am doing things so differently from how things were done in my life growing up, and I am ever so grateful.  In living life so very differently, there is a sadness that I never got to experience the same care, concern, and unconditional love.  It's a different kind of sadness that I'm right in the middle of, and it's really hard. I am tired of being alone.  I am tired of constantly reaching out and still feeling alone. It's an emptiness, never being seen, never receiving that long hug that holds a person together. You don't have people, celebrations, or a place where you can just show up and have someone sit with you, make you a cup of tea, and put on your favorite music. I have never gotten that experience. Everyone has their own family, and all I have is me. I have my children, but they are growing, have their friends, and are creating their own families, and I feel out of place. I don't know how it's possible for a person to miss something so much that they have never had. I have never had people. I have never had forever, and at times like this, the weight of that is crushing. There is so much to share with someone, and no one to share it with. Even in the things that will happen in the next few weeks, even after I present, I wish there were warm arms to rush to, to hold me, let me share my experience, and just be with me.  I will present, come home, like any other night, fix pillows, probably clean the kitchen. But it's not like any other night, and I will still be alone. Someday, I hope it will be different for me. 

I heart your heart