I Want to Feel Close to Someone
For 7 years, there hasn’t been anywhere where I felt like I belonged. There hasn’t been a single moment when I felt that indescribable sense of being comfortable in my own skin. I haven’t felt a connection to anyone who didn’t leave my life soon after the feeling of connection started. I belonged with my parents – I fit with them without having to try. I lived day after day without feeling the sense of incompleteness that I never stop feeling now. I belonged with my best friend of 17 years – there was no effort. We just fit without trying to. I took it for granted that he would always be there. I took it for granted that I could share anything with him. I had a connected place in the world that I could count on - one that I never had to question or worry about. I belonged, truly belonged, in that deep and powerful way that some people go their entire lives without ever experiencing.
In the last 7 years, my life hasn’t meaningfully changed. It’s just as relatively empty now as it’s been since I left my old world irrevocably behind. I’ve grown incredibly as a person in a million different ways – but the walls that hold me back from building my life are just as strong as ever. I still feel empty and disconnected from myself - From my body, from the sights in front of my eyes, from every touch against my skin. It all feels dull and disconnected. I spend time with people, including some people that I feel incredibly comfortable with – and yet, I don’t feel any connection to any of them. My heart doesn’t touch any of it, and none of it touches my heart. Not really. Not like it used to.
I went back to my parents house a couple of years ago when my old cat was dying. I set boundaries to cut off my dad from manipulating the situation into getting me to spend time with him, and was able to spend some time saying goodbye without anyone else around. Even before I got inside the house, I felt things that I hadn’t felt in years. The experience made me realize that my heart is still in that house. It never left. During the hour and a half that I spent there, my heart was alive in a way that it hasn’t been since I left, and that it hasn’t been since.
I keep asking myself “why am I here? Why am I alive? What’s my purpose in getting up every morning? What’s my reason for doing anything more than just doing the minimum and enduring?” I don’t know why I’m here anymore. There isn’t anywhere where I belong. There isn’t anyone or anything that really touches my heart. I don’t feel any purpose in any of it anymore. I haven’t for a long time. I want something more than this. I want to feel alive.
My old life was hellish and ugly – but I belonged there. I had a sense of purpose. I had a role to play, one that came naturally to me, without any effort except for the effort that flows naturally from desire. I look around me and I see a world that I have no real part in. I see people who are irrevocably separate from me - people who are outside of the wall that I have inside of me, between myself and the world. I don’t know how to get out of this endless grey expanse. I don’t know what to do.
In the last 7 years, my life hasn’t meaningfully changed. It’s just as relatively empty now as it’s been since I left my old world irrevocably behind. I’ve grown incredibly as a person in a million different ways – but the walls that hold me back from building my life are just as strong as ever. I still feel empty and disconnected from myself - From my body, from the sights in front of my eyes, from every touch against my skin. It all feels dull and disconnected. I spend time with people, including some people that I feel incredibly comfortable with – and yet, I don’t feel any connection to any of them. My heart doesn’t touch any of it, and none of it touches my heart. Not really. Not like it used to.
I went back to my parents house a couple of years ago when my old cat was dying. I set boundaries to cut off my dad from manipulating the situation into getting me to spend time with him, and was able to spend some time saying goodbye without anyone else around. Even before I got inside the house, I felt things that I hadn’t felt in years. The experience made me realize that my heart is still in that house. It never left. During the hour and a half that I spent there, my heart was alive in a way that it hasn’t been since I left, and that it hasn’t been since.
I keep asking myself “why am I here? Why am I alive? What’s my purpose in getting up every morning? What’s my reason for doing anything more than just doing the minimum and enduring?” I don’t know why I’m here anymore. There isn’t anywhere where I belong. There isn’t anyone or anything that really touches my heart. I don’t feel any purpose in any of it anymore. I haven’t for a long time. I want something more than this. I want to feel alive.
My old life was hellish and ugly – but I belonged there. I had a sense of purpose. I had a role to play, one that came naturally to me, without any effort except for the effort that flows naturally from desire. I look around me and I see a world that I have no real part in. I see people who are irrevocably separate from me - people who are outside of the wall that I have inside of me, between myself and the world. I don’t know how to get out of this endless grey expanse. I don’t know what to do.
36-40, M
