Alone in a world full of people

As of late I have been extremely manic depressive. It is taking a toll on me emotionally. It drains me. I lay in dark clouds all day that storm upon me in a way that it feels it will never stop. Although it really won't ever go away in a sense. I will always get episodes that drag me deep into the caves of sadness and anger. I have to be honest- while I am in this state I think about my ex husband. How good we were for the first year and a half. I wonder where that went and why it dissolved. Of course I have my notions of why it did and sometimes I dwell on that. I sometimes just have these memories of hint telling me he didn't like me anymore for no apparent reason, or him getting so angry at me, or him just not wanting me anymore. It still hurts. I think of how happy I was on our wedding day and how it means nothing anymore. I loved him and I meant every vow I made and now I feel more cynical about relationships because it doesn't matter how much you love someone or how hard you try to make things better, how many times you ask for more intimacy outside of the bedroom, or that you made vows of love and the other has felt that they only meant theirs when they liked me. I don't understand it. Maybe people will tell I just need to get over it but it's a loss. When someone is gone from your life either by dying or by leaving you grieve. When I am manic depressive the grief comes on strong. But not just because of what happened between me and him.

Sometimes the notion that I will never find someone who will love me whole heartedly, who will care about me and my feelings from the beginning of our relationship, who wants to be around me and finds me to be beautiful in all aspects, someone who will come running to my house when I am trapped inside my dark storm, and who will always appreciate the efforts I put into showing my care, my interest, my kindness for them. The notion that I won't ever find something like that at all devours my heart. I have always been someone who gives love to people. (NO that doesn't mean me showing I am in love with someone). More like I am open with my heart and my kindness. I love to give love to others. I love being in love when I am with someone who brings those feelings to me. I give love to my friends, my family, and even strangers who I show love to by helping when I don't have to. I have felt wonderful love in return. I have been in love a couple times and it is devastating when that love gets lost but I know the heart ache will eventually go away. I let myself give love, and love because it is a comfort that makes many people feel good. I don't need to meet a Mr. Perfect, nor do I need a relationship right now but I fear to a fiery extent that I may never find that person. I do not want to end up alone with no kids and no one loving me truly. I have no doubt my ex loved as truly as I loved him but it vanished. I can't tell you where it went or to whom it went but it was lost.

Mayhaps I will never find a person who cares as much as I do when I am into someone. Could be I never find someone who wants to love with open arms. The world is full of people; my world is full of family and friends that give love to me as well. Yet I feel I am alone in the world. It is hard to put that into perspective for those who don't feel as I do because of my illness. It is different from what the average person feels. Manic depression is nothing to play with. These times are deeply disturbing to me. I am extremely sensitive normally but in these episodes I am even more fragile. When I feel used, or as if someone isn't looking at me with sincere interest I am deeply disturbed and this brings me full circle to my landless in this world. Friends can make me feel this way as well because some people only care about themselves. They make a short attempt to ask you how you are doing and when you tell them I am just awful they shortly ask why yet then don't care to help me through but move on to their own simple issues or repetitive banter about whoa is me. Now when someone is having serious issues, they are severely depressed I do not bring up my small miniscule problems because I care about that person enough to listen, do my best to help, and show genuine concern for how that person is feeling. When a friends doesn't return that it is clear to me that I do not mean as much to them as them to me.

So even if I don't find a healthy relationship in the future I fear I won't always find the genuine friends when I need them most. I have been crying a lot, have been distraught, and have been restless because my mind won't stop but the only people to notice or care to find out how I am doing are my mom, sister, and my friend Chuck. My mom and sister talk to me everyday and I know my mom will do anything to bring me up even if it is just to leave me be while I dive into a book. Chuck texts me everyday with no avail because he knows that I not only have physical issues but mental ones too and he wants to make sure I don't get too far deep into the dark hole. I know if I needed him to comfort me he would come straight over. That's really meaningful to me. He has a wife and kids yet still cares enough to be that kind. I show these people the same respect and love because they mean so much to me. I appreciate them so dearly and what they do to help me. There are others who just seem not to really care. A person I care for does not show me the same kindness and it hurts. It hurts to know that there are only a couple people who are interested in truly knowing how I am and who are willing to come to my aid when I am really to dangerously close to the edge.  I keep my distance usually from those that do not have due interest in me and I do in them because I feel used, passively used.

I know my older sister has a lot on her plate but I know she would also come to my side if I needed her. I know that about a couple people. They wouldn't come to my aid and then start dribbling about some meager thing because they know that at that moment I need them to care, and they know in return I would do the same for them. I like when people show appreciation for kindness and love.

But even with those handful of people I still feel lost in this world, in this universe, in my own head. I feel so very much alone at times. It doesn't matter if my mom, aunt, sisters or whomever is there I fear my downfall episodes. I am nonexistent in this world filled with so many people. I am lost in a swarm of Americans who feel so entitled that they forget to help others or to not be so rude and unkindly. I live in a place where my mental illness is sometimes seen as fake, or a joke, or something one can just get over. I live in a place where I may never find someone who get's it, or wants to get it, or who is concerned enough to come comfort me. To others my mental illness and my physical ailments may be some kind of turn off but I believe that is unfair. I just wish that one day I can find something that is a beautiful relationship that blossoms like lilies in the sun. Where I feel safe and understood and cared for. Where there is appreciation, affection, want, desire, and a love for who I am and what I give to that person. I can no longer let myself deal with someone who neglects me on an emotional level, or on a physical level (not just sex but true intimacy shown through touch and closeness outside the bedroom). I am low on trust lately because I don't believe I can trust someone who could be something different under their shell. I don't know if this will eventually lift but I feel it now. I need someone willing to want me, willing to accept that I want to talk with them on a daily basis when I am interested and who return that feeling, someone that truly looks at me in a light where I am a gem to behold in more ways than outside beauty. I return this when I am interested.

However, this darkness looming above me, through me, has caught me in a struggle. I am lost and scarred. I am frightened by the prospect that no one will give me genuine care, kindness and love that will last beyond a few years. I have been burnt by cheaters who were apparently exclusive who said they loved me. I never want to feel that devastation again because here I sit crying just thinking about how badly the dagger in my back feels. How lonely it is to be lost in your mind wondering where things went wrong or if I have done something wrong. I have a nice life. I have a loving family, and loving friends. I do well at school, and have enjoyment from learning. I am not going hungry, and I have shelter, food, and water. I have help. I have free medical care and meds for my mental and physical ailments. But that doesn't stop my bipolar brain from sinking so low it reaches the center of the earth. I am so alone that sometimes I sleep on the couch to feel as if I have something comforting me because my bed feels so empty. Empty in a way like no one understands but the blame is more on me because I hide my sorrow, grief, anger, loneliness behind fake smiles. I lay all day on a couch reading. I have to thank the authors of my favorite books because they take me into another world. A world where my doom does not exist. My sorrow does not exist in the tales of old times. My manic, mania, manic depression is hidden behind words upon paper while my mind envisions a whole new world where while I create a bond with the characters my depression is not there to find. My world does not seem that wonderful at times because my brain is disposed to making me feel like I am but little to nothing. I wish it was easy to return from these gloomy places or to be able to say I am stronger than my mental illness but being bipolar I cannot always control these episodes. I haven't been sleeping much at night but during the day I feel my eyes growing heavy and my heart crying. I fell the lack of motivation for my life sometimes but I can at least overcome that and force myself to do what I need to do. I feel the sorrow that I have no one to come over and just hold me without any expectation for sex because they just want to make sure I am okay. I miss that. I miss knowing that I have someone to call upon to just come hold me tight without a need to say anything and who doesn't care if I just cry into their chest because I can't shake the dread that is my dark clouds. That is why I love to read. In those tales I can be the character who has that. I can forget for hours that I don't have that companion in my life. Of course my sisters or my mother or even my friend would hold me but it isn't quite the same because sometimes you just want to be held intimately or cuddled up with someone who feels deeply for you and your ache. I am alone in a world full of people. I do not exist beyond my small world to anyone. How could I. I don't know how many people walk by me and don't notice a tear washing down my face, or who don't even acknowledge I am alive. But not all people are like me. I look at the people around me, and when I see some stranger upset I ask how they are or why they are upset with sincere compassion not just to ask.

I don't need a relationship right now. I am not writing this for that purpose. I am writing this because my depression has made me feel that no one would want me because I am this. I am a bit broken, a bit out there, a nerdy mentally ill woman who desires compassion, passion, desire, love, respect, kindness, magnanimity and curiousness. Who will ever understand my curiously of death while not thinking of me as some poor depressed pathetic person. I am someone who is intelligent, creative, dutiful, kind, and so on. Yet I feel that my fake smiles will go on for eternity. I do not want anyone to feel pity for me. I do not want people thinking I am writing this because I feel badly for myself like the whoa is me person. I am writing this for me to even see what my mind and heart are feeling, and to hopefully find out or show someone else that maybe we aren't alone in a world of people.

Whose hand will grasp mine with care? Whose will hold me with genuine affection? Who will comfort me one day when I am low like this? These things I don't know and I am scarred I will never find out. Perhaps I should get used to holding myself tight, wrapped in books and blankets, contemplating why loneliness can hurt as much as a dagger in the back. I may need my fake smiles for eternity until I no longer need to wonder about death because it comes upon me when I am sleeping, or driving, or who knows what. I will not be scared of something I don't know... death... because my curiosity of it tells me it won't matter if there is nothing or something afterwards because either way it has to be better than falling into these episodes of the deepest hurt or the highest high that creates a crazy wild streak that I hate.


Sorry for the novel I am sure most people won't care enough to even read to this point which proves my loneliness in a world of people.


Lea