I’m stressing. Stressing about everything and the Monster knows it. I’m stressing about the seriousness of NG’s illness, about not being well enough to start work next week, about how much everyone hates me, about my isolation, about how utterly dysfunctional I still am with regard to food, sleep and exercise. My countdown clock is ticking so loud it’s deafening me. Stopping me from focussing on trying to get well again. On myself. There is no way I will keep that job if I’m still obsessing and stuck like this. I know this. I may find the courage to start it somehow but I won’t last a week unless they intentionally hired someone that sits motionless all day, not communicating. Obsessing.
The other Monster has just been here. He’s as inside himself as I am. I tried with all my strength to push him to do something for himself. Get a job, volunteer. Do something to improve his outlook. He just nodded. He does not speak any more. I am thankful I still have a roof on my head and options. He has told himself he has none. If nothing changes I don’t think he will last the winter. His fight is lower than mine. His Monster has been with him 4 years non stop and many years before that too. But who am I kidding? I’m not exactly in a position to hand out advice right now.
I am focussed only on my social isolation and the knowledge that no one cares for me. And every day I sit here with no contact that knowledge is re-enforced. It gets worse not easier. It feeds on the rejection. It’s a place I know. A place I remember that continues to re-visit. God forbid I may even feel comfortable here.
If I have no one to care for, or to care for me, to think of me enough to get in touch when I’m so obviously screaming out for a bit of humanly kindness, what does that make me? Say about me? It says that I have failed to build a connection with a single person on this earth. That I am as unworthy of the basics of life now – love, care, warmth, trust, concern, compassion, kindness, consideration- as I was as a child.
Nothing has changed.