Sometimes it's lonely because there is no one to share my grown-up heart with. No one to hold me after I've tucked in all the kids. No one to whisper, 'I'm here,' when there is a noise in the night. I'm deciding that I have to admit to the truth of lonely, but I do not have to live in bondage to it.
Kyan found a picture in the buffet table the other day. He asked who was the lady in the picture. The twins were about 6 months old. I told him it was me. I almost didn't recognize myself. The eyes. You'd think my eyes would always look the same but this woman's eyes were empty. Sad. Lonely. For a moment I actually wondered, who was this woman? She had my teeth and she was holding my kids. It made me look through a ton of pictures and realize that woman was living unhappy for far too long. Even when I was married, empty, lonely.
There have been times this past year when I was empty. I would scream. Not a muffled scream. The screaming that came ripping out of me was the real thing. Sometimes, some seasons, some days, I feel like screaming. Everything just caves in and it can't be muffled. Even screaming into a pillow doesn't muffle it. But yet, it falls on deaf ears.
Sadly though, this screaming is heard by my children and comes in waves. Then, after screaming, I cry because of the terrified wounded looks on their faces. Sometimes, I even see fear. I scream because I feel like I have nothing. Somedays, I'm completely given out. An empty, desperate cry, kind of like a grieving. What an embarrasingly immature thing for such an educated woman to do in front of her children. Or worse, AT her children. When you continue to live empty, it hurts the ones you love. And if empty, it's time for a change. My kids deserve a shot at life with a healthy mom whose redeemed life is becoming amazing.
I don't think other people believe that single moms are all that lonely. We've got kids who live with us, and those brilliant little minds are always coming up with a million things for us to do for them. And single moms are ridiculously busy, they reason, so how could we be lonely? We are balancing and multitasking more than any sane human being should have to. But maybe that in itself is a part of it. When you're holding up the world, all by yourself, fatigue sets in. Everyone assumes you can be strong because you are getting it all done, but no one wants to be that strong. And really, no one should have to be. Eventually the fatigue is overwhelming and being tired just makes you lonelier.
Some people act as if they don't need anyone. I think it's a front, a distancing technique to keep hurt away. I'm guilty of the "I don't need a man." I've acted like that when I was afraid of more pain. After you've been hurt in relationships more times that you care to count, you begin to tell yourself you'd be better off alone. Of course, lonely is a million times better than lonely and living in misery. But just plain lonely still stinks.
I consider it to be a good day when no one is mad at me, kids are entertained, groceries in cabinets, lights still on, emails have all been answered, messages returned, mail opened, etc. But underneath every great thing that's going on for me is this weird ever-present longing for more. A lonesomeness that comes with being a single mom in a couples' world. A single woman in a family of four.
I do feel like a baby sometimes. Whiny. Emotional. Prone to tears. Trying not to let the lonely vibe out and ruin someone else's day. I'm sure the people in my life are over it. I mean, I've been singing this same tune for years now...even though I'm only a year post-divorce.
The strangest things make me realize I'm alone and lonely in life. Taking the kids to a park. We'll be having a great time, and then I'll see a dad give a mom an extra-long hug, and I'll feel that thing you feel on the inside. That sinking feeling. Or we'll get out of the car to take Kyan into school and I see a dad walking his kid in.
What I'm trying to say is that this loneliness can cloud judgement on filling that void. And I can say, I've chosen poorly. I have enough rational thinking, even exhausted, to realize this. I've gone on dates even when I knew before going, the guy never had a chance in hell. At least I'm aware that loneliness can't kill me. Sure, lonely multplies the tears. Lonely can even steal away your hope and make you think nothing good is coming, but it can't kill you. Half of us would be dead if it could.
And trust me, I'll take that alone-staring-at-the-ceiling kind of lonely...the kind where you just wish your phone would ring...over lonely and having to fight to be heard or scream your point to make sense of it. This lonely is a million times better than THAT lonely...the kind that comes from being in a loveless relationship.
I've decided that lonely can teach you love if you'll let it. There is an upside in this conflicted brain/heart of mine. I realize that acquiring lessons from lonely is a little like getting an A in trig. There are probably only 20 people in life that need to even know trigonometry. The rest of us are fine quoting the memorized Pythagorean theorem again and again. So, here I sit, lonely, wanting to love, with an A in cosines and tangents, learning things that make me a multi-layered person....a better person.
Lonely is that class nobody wants. While living alone has capabilites of creating character amidst all those layers, I don't desire THAT much character. So, here I sit, in the advanced placement class on lonely and certain that I could have a beautiful life w/o all this instruction. And yes, looking at the timelines mentioned in previous blogs, having never been single before...or without another physical being attached, I've been lonely most of my 30 years. Maybe somewhere down the road the test will be over and I can be placed into the Graduate-level love class.
Nah, I'm not ready for that class yet. I don't love myself enough. I'm learning. I'm learning to love more and more everyday, yes solo. I can't give what I don't have and when I spend my days empty, flat out exhausted, not even running on fumes, beyond that by 30 miles....I break. But breaking is what's getting me here. Here, to the point of realization for my amazing life. I love my kids like a fat kid loves cake but often times, too often, go to bed feeling guilty that they're only getting crumbs of me. I hate that feeling. I can't give what I don't have. Now begins the self discovery on finding those ingredients....the gas to fuel up. And I'm not going to get a vacation to find these things. No, the world doesn't stop spinning to give me that liberty. I have to find it elsewhere.
When I asked my counselor if I should be dating or not, he said this, "You are a survivor, Khaki. You are one of the most pragmatic people I have had sit in this chair. You are normal. We learn things about ourselves, often times, through other people. If being with someone sheds light on that for you, date. What could it hurt?" True. I like him, btw. I'm going back this week. He's different than any other counselor I've gone to. I have learned from every relationship I've ever had in my life. I've learned about other people too. Not saying I haven't learned a lot in solitude because I have. But every break-up or demise, I'm learning more and more about me. What I want, what I don't want. What I need, what I don't need.
No comments:
Post a Comment