Mark said this the other day, and my reaction was yes! YES, that is exactly it, there are a few people around but it doesn't seem to be enough. I am in this place, and I am more than lonely. I cried talking about it. I am not at all ungrateful for the people that have shown up for me; I am so excited that they are around. Even though they are around, it feels like they are not my people. I want people that are there when my hair is greasy, and I have bed head. I want people there when I don't have any words, and when I do seem to find them, the tears come, in that ugly cry kind of way. I don't really understand it. I have been on my own for most of my life; why does it hurt so much now? I thought maybe in my DOC classes there would be connection, and I have found that they get on my nerves and are already complaining about class and want to leave. Those are not my people. I am the one on the outside. There are the few younger ones who like to hear themselves talk, the older lady that I do like, but one of her good friends is in the class, and when she is there, I am invisible. So once again I am just there on the outside. I often think that I am just a deep thinker, too deep and intense often, and it's hard to find someone who understands that. I just want to find people that I can connect with. People who can have those dark, deep conversations sometimes and not think that I am out of my mind. I think when a person has grown up with trauma, we see things differently. Lighthearted conversations aren't what we understand or feel comfortable with. Give me the hard, the deep, the edgy, and I can talk about every side and give different perspectives. How do I find my people? How do I tend to this loneliness and find a place where I belong? When I want to go somewhere, who do I go with? Who will go with me? I know that I am weirdly different; I have a different perspective on life, but I want someone to share the person that I am with. My children are getting older; they have their own lives, and I have to find my people.
I even came home the other night to an empty house and was more than uncomfortable; I didn't know what to do with myself. I was walking in circles, and there are only so many things that a person can clean. Even sometimes that doesn't fill the hole. When all is said and done, that alone is still there as I write, scroll through my phone, or play a stupid game just to make the time pass. On those days when I can't get out of my own head, there is no one to call and no one to be there. Yesterday was an extremely rough day. I even cried holding Amelia. I apologized and told her I was sorry; I was just sad. I cried as she fell asleep on my shoulder. That deep sadness, that loneliness, is ever-present, and lately it's there as a constant. Yesterday was a rough day anyway because it was Aug 22, and that day is hard. It was even harder this day.
I just want to find a place and people who are there for me, with no ulterior motive, just pure and gentle kindness. A genuine interest in me and my heart. I want to find those people who can hear my thoughts about my dissertation, question me, make me think, and keep the conversation going. I am just in a really lonely place, and I think for once in my life I don't want to feel that, and I don't have a clue where to start. I have so much to share and to give; this heart of mine longs for that connection that I have never been able to find, where it went both ways.
I have been avoiding sitting down to write because all the good things that have been happening and there is something that feels heavy. I feel more than guilty that I should be so happy, and yet I am not. The tears have been nonstop, and I found myself sobbing on the couch the other night, crying out, "Why am I not happy?" There are so many reasons to be happy, and I should be in this joyful place, but I can't find it. I think there are many reasons why, and they all feel big and looming. I graduated, and as excited as I am, there is still a certain longing that even graduation didn't fill. It's this feeling that there is still something missing. There is still something, some hole that I am trying to fill.
There are so many pieces, there are some holes in my soul that have been filled have been healed. Those holes have been filled by fighting for others, going through the court system, by finding my voice, by completing grad school. I made the choice to do all those things in hopes that somehow one of those things or a combination would give me the relief that I am desperately searching for. I know that I can not go back and change the things that have happened to me. As much as I wish there was a pill or magic wand to take away the pain and the pictures, I know they just might be forever. But the passion I have to want better for others, though it eases my own pain its still there for me.
After all of these big milestones comes the reality, I can fight for others make a difference, I can put my whole heart and soul in everything I do. Still, I am alone. Still that ache in my heart is real and ever present. I keep doing, going working to find some kind of all I never got and its hard and terrifying and lonely in the hardest ways.
There are no people to share the amazing successes and the crippling sadness. They are both there almost all the time in varying degrees and it gets hard, what is missing is something that is terrifying. I want my person my very own person to celebrate all my successes now and in the future. And someone to remind me I will always be more than the pictures that repeat. Someone to smile and understand my love of whales and passion for the field of counseling. I want someone who hears my heart, who can gently hold on my heart on all the days. Someone to enjoy my listening to the same song over and over, and someone to hold !e when I feel the most unlovable. I want those conversations about how I am impacted by all the things in my life. And I want conversations, deep academic conversations on how to help others heal.
So many things were never meant for me in this life. So many experiences I will never have. If I could have just one wish, I wish to have my very own person for all the parts of me. The strong ones the weak ones and everything in between. Someone who could see me , and share the life I am building.
I kind of need to purge the graduations that have been a part of my life and have made me dread this exciting moment coming in just a little over a week. There was my disaster of a high school graduation. There was my brother's graduation, seeing the person who stepped on my tadpoles and told me not to fight, and learning he had a daughter. There was my undergrad graduation, where I was told that I was avoiding people and just didn't want them there. Graduations have been a series of rough moments for me, each one focused on everything but celebration. I do not like celebrations, and I am struggling to move beyond that. All of these things were supposed to be good things, and they just were not. I think that I kind of felt forgotten, not heard, and even blamed for my feelings.
And I honestly don't even think that my expectations were too high; maybe they were, and I just didn't realize it. I just want this day to be enjoyable. I want to enjoy the moment and the journey that has led me to this point. I want to have conversations about what is next, and what my dreams are. I want to take in the little moments; I want everyone to at least be peaceful for the day. Let the things that don't matter roll. There is a part of me that wants to revel in each moment, and another part that is terrified that if I do, reality will be something totally different, and once again I will be crushed. I think the day is even heavier because the people that will be there are literally the only people I have, so those that are there have a huge presence and mean the world.
My first experience with a graduation was High School. I can remember just being glad that it was over. People were crying as we were getting ready to walk out, and I can remember thinking that I wasn't going to miss this place for a single second. There was too much hurt, too much sadness, and I was so glad that I thought I was going to be able to put it all behind me. I felt like I never had any true friends in high school, so leaving wasn't really a problem. The only person that I hugged after graduation was a guy that I spent most of my lunches with in the library. I was that girl who didn't even go to the cafeteria. I saw him when we all walked out of the colosseum, and I gave him a hug, but he was the only one. I don't really remember much family being there; I know they were, but I don't remember that part. I remember walking alone to the car because my father was having some kind of panic attack and all of the attention was on him. I think at the time, it wasn't a big deal I was used to being on my own and there was just another moment when I didn't matter. I can still remember the Colosseum in the background and walking down the hill alone.
The next graduation was 5 years later, same building as mine but for my brother's graduation. It's still so very clear in my head; I can still see across that stadium like it was yesterday. Once again I felt all alone. From across the stage, I saw albert, and his young daughter. He had a brother who graduated the same year as my brother. Timothy was his name, and his entire family was there, including Albert, the one who killed my tadpoles and told me that next time I wouldn't fight, the one who raped me in his living room, in the back of the van. I was in the same building with him, and I was terrified. I was even more terrified for his daughter. I was worried about what would happen after graduation, when everyone is meeting their families; I didn't want to see him. I was once again alone in my thoughts and emotions. I hated him so much, and I would have done anything to go up to him and tell him what I thought, but I just wasn't in that place. I can remember waiting for my brother to come out, terrified, standing by a tree, hoping I didn't see him and that he didn't see me. Our families knew each other; my mother took care of his brothers when they were younger. I don't remember much else besides his presence there, and not a single person there knew what he had done to me. After that graduation, I called the police in New York, where he lived, and told them the story about what he did to me and that he had a daughter. Of course, there was nothing that could be done, but they heard me. That absolute feeling of helplessness, and everyone around me being so clueless, that I was so afraid. I am not sure that I was even breathing, and I just wanted to leave.
Then there was my graduation for my undergrad. I feel like this one needs some backstory. I was excited; I had worked harder than I ever had to get there. It was a rough time, but I was more than excited and looking forward to having a place of my own and building the life that I have always imagined. There was not much contact with my mom; she was distant, and I didn't have anything to say. She was full of secrets, and I tried to keep contact with my kids to a minimum; she was unkind. I don't even know how everything came to be. I think that my family had a chip on their shoulder and had the attitude that I didn't want them there and that wasn't the case. My mom and my brother were my family, they should be there, right ?!? Well, you would think there were accusations that I didn't want them there, so many assumptions and things expected. So the day came. It was crazy, I had little money, I hated the clothes that I had, they just didn't fit. I broke a glass on my foot the day before; I hated my shoes they more than hurt my feet. There were so many things that were off, and I was just trying to make it all work. I drove there on my own. I had Fall Out Boy blaring and was singing as loud as I could. I was the first one there and my feet hurt, but I was ok.
I got there, we all walked in, and I had finally done it. Then I looked up and saw the kids and realized that James was there. I was beyond excited and couldn't believe it. So there is a mass of people once the graduation is over, everyone trying to find their families. And my mother and brother said that I was trying to stay away from them. I was shocked; that wasn't what I was doing at all. It just hurt- so much drama on a special day. All the drama just continued into the party the next day: the people and their attitudes, my brother saying that he wasn't invited, my mother came, but everything was so uncomfortable and so full of drama that it took away from the specialness of the day. They kind of wanted to show up and prove something, but I needed that a long time ago, not on my special day. So there were so many hurt feelings and just unrest; I felt like I had done something so wrong, and I hated that feeling.
So to say that I am more than nervous about graduation Friday would be an understatement. I want to be excited. I want things to go smoothly, and I want to be able to celebrate. I don't want to think about licensure, or work, or next steps, or even the doc program. I just want to enjoy every second of the day and let it soak in. I am so afraid that something will happen. I got perfect sparkly shoes; I am comfortable with my outfit. Mariska and I are going to drive there together, and I am so excited. I just want to take it all in. I have worked so hard to get here, and I am more than excited. I want to enjoy the day, and I know what this big day have been for me in the past, and I just want something different. So less than 48 hours from now, I will be on my way, hoping that all my fears will fade away, and the day is everything perfect and amazing.
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