Building Resilience 102

I feel lonely. Alone. But I won't always feel this way. And saying that doesn't change how scared and self-blaming I feel about my loneliness.

The emotions. I will keep re-living them until I can put them to rest, put names on their graves, and grieve.

I stared out the window. It wasn't a blur, passing us by: it was snapshots, taken at every heartbeat. Log. Vines. Sheep. Brick. The window was dirty, but we just had it cleaned. Snowdrop. Reflector. Rock. Cyclist. Rock.

"I suppose it will be like this." I held the sadness. "I will always have moments of grief, missing things, people and places I cannot have anymore." I saw her face. I thought of leaves whistling and the chill of a wet wind on my cheek. "And even then, I know nothing will bring those moments back."

They are nowhere. They are no more.

When you express yourself, you express yourself beautifully. Another curving smile. I only have the words that other people have given me. These emotions; those too. Wordless. You can do anything. 

I believe you.

2 puffs, twice a day

She smiled at me and asked how my moods were.

"You never would guess it, you know." She gestured at me. "Seeing you here, as you are now."

Duplicity. Her words tapped into the heart of me. I looked away, feeling deeply sad but smiling anyway. "Yes. Well." That's part of the problem. "It wouldn't be possible without the medication." 

She smiled earnestly, encouragingly, at me. I told her about my social anxiety. I promised to find a way to take my inhalers regularly. We said good bye. I walked out of the room, wanting to say: "It's you." You're the reason I smile. You're the reason I feel safe. 

I wish the world had more of you.