I have a funny little way of making up my own words and using them all the time as though they are real words. They are Michyisms, and my family and friends have learned to accept them. One of the ones I use sometimes is the phrase ‘all alonely’. It’s a play on ‘all alone’ and ‘lonely’–all alonely. Its definition is rather sad, meaning that I feel all alone and lonely, even when I’m not alone.
Recently, I’ve been feeling a bit neglected, I guess–perhaps a little bit ‘unwanted’. It’s probably just me, but at the same time, it’s probably not just me. I know, sounds like doublespeak, no?
Well, it all really started when I said something that my best friend usually would have understood, but she didn’t understand it. That sort of made me feel misunderstood, and I hate that more than anyone seems to realize. I absolutely hate feeling misunderstood–or no being understood. Strangely, she of all people should know that about me more than anyone else.
She missed it.
I thought I’d let it go.
Then, it moved on to a friend of one of my friends told my friend that he really wanted to spend some time alone with her, not always with me. Now, this is a person whom I like and find interesting, so I have to admit, it hurt to hear this. Knowing my passive aggressive self, I’ll likely never hang out with this person with my friend again, because hiding how I feel is something that is quite difficult for me to do.
It hurt. I didn’t tell anyone it hurt.
I thought I’d let it go.
Then, on a night I was feeling particularly vulnerable, Buffy and Ryan both went out, leaving me home alone with the Brat Boy (who is sweet and means well, but was wrapped up in his video games) and I found I spent the better part of two hours, lying in bed, staring at a wall, numb. I tried not to think about the fact that the person Buffy was out with doesn’t really care for me that much, and how, though I’ve been invited, I know I’m not really welcomed to go with her when she hangs out with him. I thought I was okay with all that.
But it hurts. I didn’t even realize it hurt.
I thought I’d let it go.
Add to this all that I haven’t spent any time with or talking to Ryan in days, two of my regular online friends I often talk to nearly daily if not several times per week have not been online much or they aren’t talking to me if they have, and to make matter worse, my dog likes Lynn better than he likes me and would rather spend the entire night moping at the door after she leaves than to come and hang out in bed with me, and my bird likes her better than me, and my son’s cat won’t have anything to do with me but will cuddle with the strangers at the vets, and and and…
And it hurts. And I didn’t even realize it hurt.
And so maybe I am stronger than I think I am, and maybe I do deal with things usually better than I think I do, but sometimes, well… sometimes it just sucks and I just break down and feel sorry for myself, and that’s where I am tonight.
And I’m sad.
Which is better than being numb.
And even though I am sitting here with a house full of people and critters, I feel all alonely.
And I’ll get over it… ’cause I always do.
And I’ll think I’ve let it go.
But I won’t.
Until the next time.
And it’s probably nothing. Maybe hormones. Maybe I’m tired and worn down because I haven’t been feeling well and the pain has been really bad for the past three days. Maybe I’m making something out of nothing. Maybe I’m not. Maybe… maybe… maybe.
Maybe it’s me. Maybe it feels bad sometimes to realize how different you really are, how you don’t really fit in anywhere. Maybe sometimes it’s tough to feel so strange and like no one really understands you. Oh, how I long to be understood again. I don’t know how to make that happen. I certainly know I’m not normal. But what is normal anyway? I surely don’t know, so I apparently can’t even pretend to be normal any more. The best I can hope for is to not embarrass anyone–much.
But it doesn’t matter what’s right or what’s wrong or who’s right or who’s wrong. It doesn’t matter if I have a right to feel this way or someone else has a right to feel that way. I don’t need anyone to tell me what to do–I know what to do–I don’t need anyone to give me advice, because tomorrow I’ll feel differently. None of that matters right now, in this moment. What matters now, right now, is I’m crying and I’m sad, and I’m hurt tonight. And tomorrow, I’ll probably be fine. Tomorrow, I’ll let it all go. Tomorrow, I’ll deal with it the right way.
But tonight, I’m all alonely… tonight, I’m sad. Tonight… I’m writing to you while everyone else is asleep, because this is all I have right now.
And it’s enough.
But I’ll be okay, because, you know why? I’m always okay. That’s just who I am, how I am, and how I roll.
But thank you, whoever you are reading this, for reading it. Because knowing that you are out there, even if I don’t know you, and you don’t really know me, somehow, the fact that someone might read this and understand how I feel right now, in this moment, right this second–that makes me feel a little less all alonely.
And now my tapping away has awakened one member of my household, so I best sign off and try to get some sleep.
Good night, my internet friends.
Love and stuff,