My thoughts on being alone
Driven to inspiration
Content warning: this article discusses suicide and suicidal ideation. If you or anyone you know needs help, please call the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at 988 or visit their website.
Tonight I feel alone. I am alone. No one understands me. Everyone is the same. I’d like to believe we are all here because we are unique but we are not. We prove it everyday: how we treat others, how we move in life, how we value life.
I see no one special.
I’m no different. I scream (figuratively) and want attention because I am not seen and yet I don’t want to put myself out there for fear of criticism and failure. It’s pathetic actually. Demanding respect but cannot command it. Stating I am the voice for the voiceless (I am vegan) and yet I do not speak aloud. Hypocrite. I fall in that category of extras taking up room. I actually wanted to be an extra on a tv drama show shooting in Chicago but I was too shy and declined when I was offered the position.
Tonight I didn’t want to be here… or anywhere. Gosh, I would look forward to stuff and experiences and feeling good. But it doesn’t happen and I end up here. I’m in this space of nothingness.
I drive around the city at 3 o’clock in the morning. I must say, the city is absolutely beautiful when it’s still and quiet. The streets seemed wider than usual. The lights from the streets and buildings were brighter and clearer than I expected. Imagine being the only one moving in the city. I wanted to fly. I thought ‘is this how birds feel?’ Soaring unrestricted from traffic, pedestrians and stops signs. Magnificent. I take a breath in to savor the imagination I’ve created to avoid who I really am.
Trekking back home I felt grim. I start to sob. What a beautiful winding road I’m taking. I think it’s the prettiest road around here. I practically come to a stop when I see a raccoon in the middle of the street. Which way are you going buddy and I will go the opposite? Right. I then move to the left and pass. My headlights are the only way I can see on this road but I see the end and it’s lit up. Before I approach the stop sign I see a deer. I don’t know why I was intimidated but I was and decided not to stop to really see the deer and those big antlers.
I’m back home. It doesn’t feel much like one these days. It keeps me safe and hidden and for that I am thankful.
I should sneak back in bed but I am wide awake. I write more and more. Why do I want to capture this in words? But there’s something healing when I do. I hope this makes sense to someone. It doesn’t to anyone I know.
And all the while, I cannot get Claude Debussy‘s “Clair de Lune” out of my head. It’s intoxicating.
