Even when you’re alone, you’re not

It is 1:48 AM, and I am shivering, struggling, isolated in front of a computer screen.  It’s not the best.  Out of outright desperation, I have been reading my own blog entries- just to not feel so alone.  Who knew that I could actually help myself, keep myself company?  Until now, I did not.

Years ago, I watched helplessly as my sister died naturally.  Watching helplessly does not mean that I did nothing.  I did my best CPR, which was absolutely lame.  Try as an untrained layperson to do CPR on a loved one you had NO IDEA would be dying in front of you at that moment and just see how it goes.  Not well?  I’m your girl.

A couple mornings ago, for no apparent reason, the flashbacks came.  I could see the strange color of her face, which I now see as the color of death.  I could see the unfamiliar shape of her features, which were distorted by her lifelessness.

Did I do anything to take care of myself?  No.  Did I go to work expecting as much from myself as I always give without any acknowledgement of what I had seen?  Of course.  That is just.  Mean.

My husband, wonderful, wise man that he is, can not comprehend my pain.  He tried to help me, and then fell soundly asleep.  At first, I felt painfully isolated.  Even our dog is too tired to be with me.  So here I am, and now it is 2:02 AM.

I could call a number of people right now and say that I need help, and I would have company.  The problem is, I have perspective.  I want comfort badly, but I know that I am sitting very pretty compared to most people in the world.  Instead of making calls, I summoned my past self- bizzare but true- to help me survive some bad moments.  I am becoming convinced that we as human beings are never as alone as we want to make ourselves out to be.  With that, I will surrender, returning to bed with light reading that soothes, and will very likely fall asleep next to the loving man who I almost wanted to shun due to his lack of understanding.  Would I rather he understood?  A “no” and deep breaths will accompany my weary soul as I lie down next to him.