Lonliness

I like this picture. Somehow it touches me. I read despair, lonliness and resignation.

Normally I don't get all philosophical on you but I was thinking today (dangerous, I know) and I think I know why this picture speaks to me.

How often have I stopped in my own life, tired of climbing, weary of fighting to keep on going on? More often than I'd like to admit. In this picture, the peak above the stairs isn't visible and neither is it's beginning. It's the middle, the center, of the journey that stops me. I can relate to the look of hidden sadness this portrays to me.

In the clutches of Isuckitis, I can give in to a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness that is deadly. There is one thing that has saved me.

I have not been lonely.

I have friends, fellow authors, fellow sufferers and those on the steps above me willing to give me encouragement. Lonliness is the killer. I'm not talking about solitude (a necessary ingredient for sanity with me). I'm talking about being in a room of eighty people and not feeling connected to any of them. Being connected is the only way to live. It may only be one person who gets your drift. In my case, it's the person who fills the role of friend, sister and roommate. Michelle can connect with me when I'm drifting. Someone who gets my weird humor is rare and she gets it. My husband connects with me. He makes an effort to do it.

Who gets your drift? Is there one person who you connect with when things get crazy?

posted at 8:51 PM by Jennifer :: -------------o0o-------------