Ache in my heart. Ache in my whole torso. Empty. Without meaning. I think “It doesn’t have to be this way.” I remember being at Kindred Spirits and feeling OK.
Erica called this “the attachment wound,” this being alone, without meaning, the ache in my heart, no reason to do anything… I feel the tears behind my eyes. But I was only able to cry when I had Erica on the other end of the phone.
Two friends, living alone, told me recently that when they were sick, stuck in bed, one of their children came to take care of them. I envy these women who have someone who will show up when they need help.
When we were on the phone, I told Erica that I was reaching out. She said No, that “we” had to be the ones who came to her. I didn’t understand at the time, but now I see, as I’m sitting here, that what I need is someone to come to me because she cares about me. The wound is “I cried and cried, and nobody came.” So many times I wrote that in my journal, and had no idea what it meant until I understood about the trauma. So much of my life spent in fantasies of the man who would come and love me into reality. I said of being with Christine and Susan “after a while I began to feel human.” That startled me at the time. But then I realized that that described how I felt when I was alone. I don’t feel human now. I am nobody, a non-person. I think of Eleanor saying she doesn’t think she is human. We aren’t real, we aren’t human, until someone from outside sees us truly. Elizabeth Goudge says “Identity is the gift of love.” I think of Father Greg saying “and the soul felt its worth,” saying “You are just what God intended when God made you.” You have to be seen, seen for who you really are. I suppose that’s what Erica is doing for me. I remember Dana saying “I can’t handle your energy.” And feeling seen instead of wondering if I was too noisy or too quiet.
O yes, the thing about needing someone to notice that you need help and coming to offer it, instead of always having to reach out. How do I approach the lost part of me to comfort and reassure her? But it’s not “part of me,” it’s me. It’s me who has to be rescued. There’s no one here to do it.
Why did this happen? I was alone too much between Christmas and New Years. I had hoped to spend some time with Evelyn, but it didn’t work out, and I hadn’t set up anything else. I remember the first time I went to stay with her, and she said “O goody, someone to cook for.” How it warmed my heart. On the other hand I just accepted it when Dana stopped cooking for me. He said “You aren’t fun to cook for any more.” I must have been terribly hurt at one level, but numb to it. Expected that no one would want to cook for me. No one ever cooked for me when I went “home” to my alcoholic parents. So I was alone too much over the holidays. No Erica, no Cory. I talked to Karen instead of going to Montpelier. Then last Tuesday I wasn’t able to get to Erica, so we talked on the phone. But I think I need physical presence, the baby needs physical presence. Words don’t mean much to her.