The loneliness I
sometimes often feel maybe has nothing to do with physically being alone at all, I sometimes think. That’s what I’m thinking today, anyway.
I was just playing with my dog, and, as sometimes happens, I was gripped by a wildness. I like to get on the floor and play rough, but very often, it’s as if my wildness exceeds his. I never really understand it, but sometimes I have been a little afraid of it, because there’s a roughness, an uncaring-of-consequences fierceness in it. It’s as if I, a wild thing, don’t care if I hurt or if I get hurt, and my dog, a domestic animal, is the one who feels and knows limits. Sometimes I just have to let this wildness go consciously, and I return to myself. But sometimes I expend this wildness in play, and I come back to myself suddenly, almost shamefully. What does my dog know of this ferociousness inside me? How can he match my despair? He only knows play; he never abandons his domesticity.
Just now I came to myself suddenly, but instead of being totally remorseful (to be clear, I never ever ever hurt my dog, I just become conscious of playing a slightly different, more ferocious game on my part), the clear thought game to me: I play thus because I am lonely. That doesn’t actually make sense, I know; but it felt true.
This loneliness, I further realized, feels not like being actually alone, but like having no one to share my circumstances with. Maybe this is just me being maudlin lately, or maybe it’s because Bear’s going in early and coming home late again, but I feel stranded in circumstance. Distanced from him, even though he is closer to me than anyone. But he goes away every day, to a place I have never been, to talk about things I only vaguely understand, with people I barely know. He makes a regular journey without me, he has a routine that only touches me on the edges. Even when we are together, we are not conscious most of the time. And while I have my own routine, mine is emptier. Almost untouched by humanity. Lesser.
Sometimes it seems that the conscious moments we have together cannot bridge that difference.
Maybe I play rough and fierce because I truly feel rough and fierce and lonely and despairing, and it seems the most acceptable outlet.
*just wanted to make a note, an hour or so after writing this, that I am experiencing an anxiety attack right now for sure. Dunno if this would have happened anyway, or if it was the “can of worms” being opened, by that I mean writing about my feelings, that brought it on. In any case, the physical attack is real and started not long after I first posted this. And overwhelming despair and loneliness. Started as a general realization that nothing mattered, I do not care, I want nothing but to disappear. Followed by physical symptoms, especially numbness, dizziness, and a feeling of choking and difficulty breathing. Everything feels unreal and I can’t concentrate. The one thing I feel is a persistent sadness. Might cry. Want to be rescued. Lonely. Ears feel like they need to pop. Nothing I do or do not do has any consequence. I’m going to go outside to try to wake myself out of this.
I had thought that making my camping calendar, starting to plan, would make me excited and give me something to look forward to. Instead, the lack of feeling has just made me sadder. I really can’t bear to look at the itinerary, the meal plan, right now. I don’t feel any enthusiasm for it at all.
So I just went outside and fed Cadenza and let my thoughts run in the sun and the fresh air; I achieved some clarity of thought, maybe. I was thinking, my problem is that I can never get from here to there. I am always here, imagining some there or other, and imagining the path I will have to take to get there, but somehow I always lose the way, or maybe it’s that the path never did go all the way there to begin with. Somehow I always end up back here, a different here or the same here, it doesn’t matter. But I never get there. And it occurred to me that, of all the things I have and the things I’ve achieved, I’ve never really reached something I planned to reach on my own. Either I drifted into something aimlessly, or I reached a goal, but only because I hitched a ride with someone else. And that is why I find myself living in a beautiful house with beautiful horse property, just like I always wanted, but not really being able to take enjoyment from any of it. Because even though it was my dreams that shaped it, I did not earn it. I do not feel like it is truly mine. It became my as if through magic.
I think this actually creates a distance between Bear and me, too. I can’t embrace this thing we have together, because I don’t feel it is mine to embrace. And I think it is why I fear his death irrationally: not that I wouldn’t be devastated if something happened to him, but that I literally cannot imagine my world without him. He is holding everything aloft.
Maybe everything will get magically better if I get a job. Maybe.
Anyway, these are helpful thoughts, maybe, but I am still not actually feeling better. I don’t know how to actually feel better. I keep thinking, if only I could achieve something. Suddenly, quickly. If I could look around the yard and, with a glance, clear it of all the weeds. If I could contribute and actually finish something. Because endless effort without result, that takes from me but does not replenish. I don’t know what I can do that will be enough. All I do is strive.
This is all just continued update. I know I should be getting on with my list, especially the part about shopping and making food, but I just can’t seem to know whether or not we should even go. I can’t bring myself to get on with the details of preparation since I just can’t seem to settle that question. It should be simple: yes, we’re going. But. Is that really what’s best?
Okay, so. I went outside and sat on a blanket with Cosmo and a notebook. I did some thinking, and it was good. Calmed myself down, and got to spend some more quality time with Cosmo, and I managed to sort out my feelings regarding camping and a bunch of other things. Made some resolutions, and took myself off the hook for a few other things. I think I know how to proceed with the day now.