I’ve been sitting here trying to define how I feel. What I feel. My last therapist would tell me to quit trying to put it “in a box” and just feel. Whatever it is.
That’s not so easy for me. I like things all nice and tidy. If I’m feeling sad, I want to understand I’m sad. It would be even nicer if I knew WHY I was sad, but at least knowing that’s what I am feeling would be good. But I can’t put a label on this. It is … not depression. Not exactly. It’s more like sad depression braided with loneliness, emptiness, and a need to be … not sad, depressed, empty, or lonely.
I don’t even know if I’m making sense. Just deciding to post this was difficult because I’m a person who makes a living writing instructional documentation, and intuitive software interfaces and making myself understood. Maybe it’s the writer in me. But this… I’m at a loss.
So why is it even important for me to be understood? Still part of that ‘being a writer’ bit I suppose.
I only know I hate this. I hate this …void … of meaning. Or understanding. Or whatever the hell this is.
I do know one thing, I need to be not alone anymore. Not want. Need.
Just typing that starts the tears.
I need to get away from me for a while. I can’t stand this anymore.