Lonliness

Sometimes I feel so damn alone it feels like I'm going to die. I know this is a figment of my imagination, that it's a story that caught caught in my neurocircuitry, but also it feels so real. And it feels like it's my fault. Having been abused growing up, or maybe it's just some human's condition or being a woman, I have a tendency to feel like things are my fault. I assume that I'm in control, I'm in charge of my life so if I'm not happy I've obviously been doing something wrong. I am happy sometimes, dark moods can permeate my soul and allow me to believe that this is the new reality. Soon it will pass. Just writing it down is starting to put things in perspective and lift the veil of judgement.
I make mistakes. I grew up thinking I was not allow to make mistakes, that it was a fatal error, and yet I survived and I know they are opportunities for learning and growing. There's still a loud voice in my head that screams I'm a failure at times. I'm shouting back Take A Hike! Literally that's all we can do sometimes with those nasty voices in our heads. Find compassion that they mean well and shout over them.
I tend to be a good listener. I don't like to interrupt people, to the point where it can be challenging to set boundaries because I'm afraid that it will upset or hurt someone's feelings if I don't want to hear what they are saying (see previous article on people-pleasing). I've started to practice telling people, "actually I'm at my capacity for this topic, can we switch to something else?" or recently "I have a lot of opinions about this and feel very emotional, if that's not what you're wanting from this conversation we can change to something else." I think this is an interesting practice. It is not that I don't want to hear what the person has to say at all, it's a matter of subject. I am allowed to want or not want to engage in particular conversations. The number of hours I have endured lectures and tirades and monologues about things I was not interested in...that's when I'm doing a disservice to myself. That's where I'm at fault.
I don't always understand I have a choice about things, but I do. Especially as a white cis able person. I have a lot of damn choices. I can decide who I want to spend my free time with for damn sure and if they don't respect that I have boundaries around engaging in conversation, then I probably don't want to be around them. Even at work, I can walk away if I don't want to participate in a conversation. Or hang up the phone. I prefer to address things directly if I can, but sometimes I just too tired and that's okay too.
I require a lot of permissions. I need to remember I'm allowed. One of the voices in my head shoulds on me, and says 'you can't do it that way' and repeats 'you're doing it wrong" over and over. I've spent a lot of my life fearing that I'm doing it wrong. I read recently that you can be addicted to fear. What a concept! Addicted to a particular emotion. I would say that I fit in this category.
One thing about naming it as an addiction is that it externalizes the concept of 'fear' and allows me to play with it in a way that it has less power over me. Fear is a jungle cat of the jaguar variety. It prowls around inciting fear in everything that encounters it. This visual of my fear gives me an opportunity to pet it, to soothe it, hell I can even cuddle with my fear if I want. I generally imagine it curled up behind me nearby or around my head on my pillows at night. It comforts me and makes me feel less alone. That's the point of an addiction anyways...to keep us company in our terrible feelings of aloneness. When we feel just "so damn alone".