Pleasantly Disturbed

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2020-05-20 10:01:06 (UTC)

Like The Picture Of Dorian Gray (But, In Different Ways...)

I haven't read it in years, but I feel like The Picture Of Dorian Gray, but instead of deteriorating from moral corruption, I'm deteriorating from lack of love and loneliness. It's been over 13 months since my husband passed away. I have no friends, no family. As de-motivated and tired just from grief as I am going to work and working is not the hard part (though, getting stuff done at home is very, very difficult - I simply don't care about anything. My room can become a mess and I won't see it/won't care. I barely take care of myself, as well. I don't care. It feels pointless. All of life does. ☹☹☹). The hard part is being constantly reminded of my loneliness. Being surrounded by people who all have someone. I can laugh at stuff here and there, but all too quickly return to my sad and empty state. The emptiness I feel is unreal. I need a mental escape of sorts.

I realize I'm repeating myself in this journal, but I have to get this stuff out!

I've asked God for help. He doesn't seem to want to help me.

No one cares about me, including God.

I'm doing my best to accept all this, but time doesn't heal for me at all. The further in time I go, the more mentally and, eventually physically, deteriorated I become, until the day I die.

I know we are all dying every minute, but not like this. A lot of people don't have happy lives, but they still have people in their lives.

I'm going to be like a little kid again and create imaginary friends. I'm going to go crazy. As an adult that would seem to be schizophrenia - only if I know the voices and people are fake - what does that make me? Just regular, general kind of crazy???

I haven't created these "friends," yet. They can be fictional characters, other people created, famous people I don't know who are dead and then, maybe characters I actually create. I'm not that creative yet, as I haven't been in years. I will not talk to dead people I knew, nor God. That's too personal and painful when they don't respond. When these other characters don't respond... whatever.

So, what's the point if they don't respond? Just conversations I can imagine in my mind to keep me distracted all day at work.

I'm not afraid to socially interact with people, I don't hate people, I'm just so numb to life and frankly, I don't care to talk to people who don't give a shit about me. That's why, it's fine and better talking to people I've just met, rather than co-workers or my so-called "friend." These strangers, let's just say, uber drivers (because that's actually, specifically who I was thinking about!), don't know me and therefore, I can't be hurt if they don't care about me! You could argue somewhat the same point for my co-workers, but what about this one "friend?" I feel like she is pretending to care, trying to do her Christian duty. The reason I feel this way is because in all these months since my husband passed, she could barely text me once a month. I know you're not that damn busy when 1)You don't work & 2)Everyone is isolating at home right now. To be reasonable, a once a week text to ask how I am doing, would have been nice. Just once a week.

It's not like much will change for me when everything opens back up. I will be glad to have the busses back. But, I will still be self-isolating at home. Not by choice. Just, not by government order/request, anymore. Luckily, my state hasn't been super-restrictive. The really bad things are: wearing my mask in a hot kitchen all day, having to wear a mask in a store (and soon ubers and busses, as well) and no busses. We are still mostly free. The essential businesses do close early and all restaurants are take-out and/or delivery. I know many places have it much worse, even within the United States (California comes to mind), but in particular I think of England where it's really beginning to look like 1984. At least, they don't have new immigrants, for now!

Wow. I guess I needed to get all that out. It helps me to just stay numb, emotionally, to write everything out. This numbness is my protection, though. It's like a shield. I'm shielding myself from the immense and unbareable pain beneath this numbness.


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