End of the line?

I see friends having full lives, but feel that mine is going nowhere.

It’s been quiet here on my Substack.

Very quiet.

I haven’t written much, but thought a lot.

Constantly wondering about my life and where it’s heading - if anywhere at all.

It feels heavy again, with no future in sight, just worries and gloom. The early spring sun barely dares to show itself to me, or so it feels. The fickle weather mirrors how I feel inside on most days - turbulent, precarious and unpredictable. I’ve spent a lot of time alone, reflecting on the life I’ve had so far and trying to create a new one for myself at this point in time. One that will bring fulfillment and financial stability so I don’t have to depend on anyone - or better said: so I’m not a burden to anyone or a leach to society (as someone recently put it). It means that everything is happening up there, in the air, in my head, in my mind and in my thoughts, whilst my body aches with blockages caused by the un-flowing-ness of my life.

At times I make an effort to visit friends, I see the excitement of life in their eyes and hear them tell me about all the things they do and plans they have.

Their lives are full still.

Very full.

Not only with work, but with family life. Visits to foreign countries, parents to take care of, kids that still live at home or come by often and commitments to friends or hobbies. I feel the fullness of their lives - a stark contrast with the emptiness in mine. It’s not that I don’t do anything, don’t take me wrong. I too have parents that need care, wonderful kids that come by now and again and friends that are always up for a good chat, but the sense of utter loneliness that has recently sprouted, makes me feel inadequate and needy for wanting more.

And I love being alone.

So why do I feel so stranded?

How do I even begin to explain then that life feels empty, useless and futureless. Where others may be surrounded by green pastures of ever-growing wild flowers, my fields are barren, grey and bearing nothing but nothingness.

Yes, it sounds like I may be experiencing some sort of difficult dealing with grief. I’m reading ‘Weathering’ by

Ruth Allen

at the moment - a book I highly recommend, for it is filled with kindness and compassion on so many levels. I particularly find that I connect to some passages in the book where her clients are going through grief and mourn the loss of what once was.

Maybe that’s what’s going on.

A lot has changed in my life the past few years. So many things that I loved are gone or different now. I have had to let go of places, people and the pet I loved - with no new door(s) opening in sight. I feel stuck in an ‘in-between’ space. Without doors. Where my incessant thoughts bash against the solid walls in an effort to get me out. They are not succeeding, I think that’s clear from what I’ve written so far. At times I try to sit there and just ‘let it be’ - but even that is an excruciating task and one I am not good at, as it makes room for more thoughts to haunt me with their doom scenarios of what’s next.

So, what if this is it? What if this is the end of the line for me? I cannot fathom death just yet - but isn’t a life not being lived a death of some sorts?

‘Be patient’, I’ve been told - the future will unfold for you as soon as you stop forcing it to appear. Am I? Am I forcing it to appear? Or is it just nowhere in sight and do I keep seeing that reality for what it is.

‘One step at a time’, another piece of valuable advice that I’ve taken to heart. But my steps seem to be going in the wrong direction lately - backwards, not forwards. That is surely not the way to go?

‘Look at all the good things’ - I do! I love the good moments, I cherish them, I indulge in them knowing they are rare but oh so wanted. I’m grateful for those moments too, my heart is healed a little every time. A tiny bit of hope appears in the distance making me think that maybe these are the things to live for, but as these moments fade, I sink into the grey hole again only to realize that you can't hold on to anything.

And so I see that:

I’m not good with change.

I feel we are more and more alone in this world because of how we’ve decided to live our lives. A part of me is rooted in South America and my Latina genes long to live a more communal life. One big family of different generations under one roof - or multiple roofs close by, to keep in touch on a daily basis. To carry and support each other and to never have to feel like your fending life alone. At the same time this thought feels ‘needy’ and ‘inapropriate’ in this life we’ve designed as a modern society. I cannot ask of my children or even parents to ‘be’ with me, just because I find life hard to live right now. I get enough help, I should be thankful for that already and not want more.

I need to find my own way out of this.

And so, for now, I stay - stuck - in that grayish area at the outskirts of life hoping that I will find a way out of there before I fade away into the grayness of it all.