Tag Archives: isolation

Dec30

Falling

Posted on by
Standard

Falling into an abyss,
powerless to slow the fall,
grasping for something
to give me a sense of
here, now,
but there’s nothing,
nothing to hold onto.
I look inside,
but the darkness there
is darker than the darkest night.
Everywhere I look
the darkness clouds
this experience of life.
Clearly it’s time for a change…
I can hear you tell me that this is all my fault.
I can hear you blaming me for everything that’s wrong.
And still I miss our togetherness,
the intimate moments we shared,
just for us.
When will this sick mind heal,
this mind that longs for the very thing
that wounded it?
As I continue to fall,
I keep wondering
Will someone eventually catch me?
Will I grow wings and fly?
Will I smash into a million pieces at the bottom?

Dec29

Deeper Under

Posted on by
Standard

Saturday night and I’m alone.
I used to have a husband
and we used to live together
with our two children…
I used to have a family.
I try not to retell the story
of how you made the choice
to break our family apart,
and share your heart
and bed with someone else.
But the pain is real,
and the grief surges up inside me
like a wave
and suddenly I’m drowning.
A drowning person
can’t think logically…
they’re fighting for survival.
All they want is a breath of air.
Just like this,
I cannot think my way out
of the grief that drowns me.
I’m thrashing about inside myself
looking for land,
trying to catch my breath,
but there’s no land,
and there’s no breath,
and I’m sinking deeper,
deeper under.

Oct24

The One I’ve Been Waiting For

Posted on by
Standard

Melancholy.
It’s something about the cold wind
and the way the sun keeps hiding
behind the big, thick clouds
rolling through the sky today.
I’m feeling estranged from everything,
as if I didn’t get the memo
for some meeting
and everyone is there without me
while I’m wondering
where everyone else is
and why I’m not there with them.
Lonely.
Like the opportunity to connect
has disappeared
and I need to resign myself
to this feeling, forever.
Uneasy,
like I know there’s more out there,
but I don’t know where I’m supposed to go
and what I’m supposed to do.
Tired.
Feeling exhausted to my very bones,
knowing I have so much to do,
wondering how I’ll summon the energy
for the rest of this day
when my kids get home.
Longing.
Wanting answers. Wanting comfort.
Wanting understanding,
and knowing I’ll need to give it to myself,
because I am the only one who can
and I’m the only one who does.
It all comes back to this:
When I’m feeling melancholy, estranged,
lonely, uneasy, tired and full of longing,
I am the one I need most.
No one else is here to save me.
It’s up to me now
to be the one I’ve been waiting for.

Jul12

Sadness Wins

Posted on by
Standard

Lost. Alone.
Caught in a story.
Rock bottom.
Struggling.
Afraid.
Hungry.
Exhausted.
I tried for a year to believe.
A year came and went
and I’m still struggling.
How do I keep believing
in a chance for better days?
I always want to find resolve
with my words.
I always want to end these poems
on some kind of inspiring note,
some kind of opening into greater things.
Tonight, I don’t have it in me.
Tonight, the sadness wins.

Jun16

What Waits in the Darkness

Posted on by
Standard

Caught in the trance of unworthiness*
Wondering what to do, where to go,
what to say and to whom,
which book to read,
what action to take,
how to stand, how to sit,
how to walk,
what to eat,
what to drink,
what to wear,
who will understand
all these questions, these doubts,
these fears.
There is a darkness,
an unspeakable horror in me,
clawing to get out.
It visits me in my dreams at night
and wakes me up.
I feel exhausted by these nightly hauntings.
I want release, relief, respite
from being tossed around on these huge waves
in the infinite ocean of consciousness,
the surface of which
has been stormy for quite some time.
I’m tired of the turbulence,
tired of this endless transition
from what was familiar
into a new life that I cannot see or fathom.
They say I’m at the helm.
They say I have the power.
They say I can change my narrative, my perception,
my life.
They tell me I’m better off without him.
This is just talk,
and I am tired of being thrown about endlessly
on enormous waves out in the middle of nowhere,
no land in sight,
on a flimsy vessel that is sinking fast.
I have nearly drowned a thousand times
in the dark waters of my psyche.
Why do I keep thrashing my way to the surface?
I want a safe harbor, a home,
a place of belonging,
a tribe who knows and loves me.
Why in the moment when I most need connection
does it seem that no one is there?
Why with all of this love around
does it not show up in the way I’m wanting?
More questions than answers,
and afraid to go to sleep
because I know what waits for me in the darkness:
more trance
more fear
more loneliness
than any human should bear.
____________

*Spiritual teacher Tara Brach talks about the trance of unworthiness in her book Radical Acceptance.

Jun10

Deep Loneliness is Our Offering

Posted on by
Standard

There is a deep loneliness in me

and I can remember it being there since

fourth grade at least,

this feeling of being alone

no matter how many people are around,

of being invisible, unseen

even when others say my name,

address me.

This loneliness eats away at me…

something about being different, unworthy…

and I want to answer it.

I want to say,

But see? I have students who listen to me.

But my students always go home,

and eventually I find myself alone again.

For a few years marriage and motherhood

precluded the possibility of being truly alone,

but since he left me, I find myself

without my children half of the time,

and that’s when I feel most lonely.

Yes, yes, yes you self-helpers out there,

I know I need to be a friend to myself,

love myself, court myself,

make love to myself, welcome myself,

YES YES YES I know all this already.

No use reminding me.

The fact that I can know

and not implement this knowing

makes me even more lonely.

What will help me?

Even in the darkest moments

of loneliness and isolation

one thing I know…

I am not the only one

feeling this lonely.

Maybe we can share

in our loneliness, together.

All over this world,

hearts reaching out

with threads of longing for connection,

could we wrap this world

in our longing

and know the breadth and depth of our work?

Maybe our loneliness

is our offering…