It’s hard to feel whole or even like yourself when you’ve lost your identity. It’s hard to make myself care. Care about myself — my health and wellbeing. I feel numb. I’m just going through the motions and unable to put my heart into the things I once enjoyed.
For so long I’ve been unable to get out of this rut. Consistently feeling down, losing my desire to maintain friendships and/or relationships with others that aren’t geographically nearby. Diving up and down an emotional rollercoaster, where some days I’m incredibly motivated and the next I’m completely demoralised. All because I decided to be here with you.
I feel alone whenever I come here. I hate feeling dependent on you, because I haven’t made my own friends here. I hate feeling like I’m stuck in this house and unable to do things on my own when you make plans last minute. I hate the way I feel insignificant here. I’ve even reached the point where I hate being here because of this. There was a point where all I wanted was to move here, and live with you. But that’s the last thing I want or need now. I hate that I haven’t been able to make a life of my own here, despite all my efforts to make it happen.
Felling this way has proven that having a friend group is vital. I feel alone being here with you because this is ultimately your life, not mine. I yearn and pray for the opportunity to make friends who help me outgrow this current phase. I am not even someone who needs to be in crowds — in fact, I know that I don’t excel in those spaces. And yet, my emptiness runs so deep that I find myself hoping that I am able to find people that I can spend time with to fill the void of loneliness.
I understand I have to be my own source of happiness — I can’t expect someone else to fill that role for me. It’s selfish and unhealthy to put that level of responsibility on someone else. But I’m just so much happier when I’m in an environment that I have my own community. And while I’m here with you, that sense of community is nonexistent.