Isolation

The rest of them are sitting outside. The children are screaming and laughing. There are scooters and skateboards and sprinklers in use. I sit alone, with my computer, inside, listening. I feel so un-connected. It's probably a choice at some level. I feel like an outsider, perhaps even a little rejected. I no longer fit the norm. It was fine while LH was alive. It was fine while I was a grieving widow. Now that I have aspirations outside this community, I am a misfit.

What do I want?

I would love to be with my Sweetie- he's otherwise occupied. If we had our house together, would I feel less empty and alone? Would my misfit status go with me? If it's a feeling, more than a status, then moving away from the harpies will make no difference. If my emptiness is about grief, then when I live with my Sweetie, I will still feel empty.

So, what do I want?

To feel valued, fulfilled, loved, important. To be content, peaceful, loving, purposeful. I have much to do. I am paralysed. I am so close to being all I want to be, but I am miles from doing all I want to do.

I have often wondered whether waiting for the motivation to act and change and do is wise. If I were to act and change and do FIRST, and assess the feelings subsequently, I'd have good results. I know this, but this is insufficient motivation. It would be so simple to leave my computer, my self-created isolation, my blog and my head, and get into my life, play with my kids, socialize with my neighbours- simple, but not easy. Inside, I am still a bereft little girl, hurting from her awkward childhood and her traumatic widowing. It's hard to do and be all of those grown-up things, when I feel so little and so hurt.

Grief underlines the disconnect between inner feelings and outer actions; grief is belittling and diminishing. I am grieving. I would like to feel less little. I'm glad to be seeing the therapist tomorrow. I hope for more peace and contentment soon.