Among Wayward Souls
Even Mother Teresa got it. Loneliness is the coldest and most painful thing to endure. Expressing it is done in silence, smiling, pretending, and in some cases anger and numbness. I would be lying if I said that I haven’t expressed my loneliness in those ways. I tend to lean more towards the smile, nod, and sarcastic humor. Being lonely doesn’t mean constantly being alone. I can be in a room full of people and still feel alone. Feeling alone is something that actually aches within your being. A hallowing pit that no matter what you throw into it, the pit consumes it in its infiniteness. Crying into a pillow until you fall asleep and then waking up, putting yourself together, and beaming a rehearsed smile and working so hard to be funny. Sometimes I’m tired of being funny.
Making other people laugh makes me feel like I still have worth as an adult, especially since most of my worth is stored in my children. The laughter gives me something to look forward to and the atta boys give me a payoff. I am a quick witted sarcastic person aside from the loneliness. The pain of the loneliness just accentuates my humorous character.
I find myself swimming in a sea of emotional turmoil all too often. I float in it, bobbing to and fro with the waves. I stare into the sky expecting to see my hope. It’s ironic how I traded one loneliness for another. Watching my life play out in front of me, as if on a movie screen, I yearn for the ability to share it with someone, to experience it with. Without a witness who will ever know that I lived?
It’s a true fact that lonesomeness is felt in the same place in the brain that feels pain. A physical reaction to an unseen force. An unseen force that is deeply felt. There is no pharmacy or prescription that will cure loneliness. Talking about it helps, as well as, venting, channeling, sulking, drinking, there are many more alternatives that I could list but I’m sure you get the point. Since I am currently experiencing this life in several what the fucks per second I’m not exactly sure what the best way to shake the solitude is.
But I can tell you what I have found solace in. In my writing. My quiet place where I sit with my thoughts, tear off my peaceful masked exterior, and rip my filter off my thoughts. I also find comfort in the fact that I am not alone in this sea of loneliness. I know there are fellow survivors floating among the waves some have found that life preserver and have been pulled out of the deep blue the rest of us bob on in hopes of finding one. We are not alone, we are among wayward company.