I have varying reasons why I take the time to write my thoughts on this page. Sometimes I believe what I am writing may benefit others, so I write just in case that may be true. Sometimes I write because my mind is jumbled with thoughts and forcing myself to sit, think them through and type them out is therapeutic for me. Sometimes I write simply because I enjoy the process. This writing definitely does not fall into category number one above. I doubt anyone could benefit from what I write tonight. With that disclaimer stated, to continue reading will not add to your knowledge base, nor will it leave you with thoughts to ponder or decisions to make. It will just eat up a few moments of your time should you decide to continue.

There is no way for someone to fully know exactly what another is feeling or experiencing. Words can be quite powerful. We’ve all heard the children’s saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.” That is false. Names–words–can hurt. I think it is fairly safe to say that each of us has, at one time or another, been on the receiving end of words that cut deeply. I think it is also safe to say that each of has, at one time or another, been the speaker of said words. What words can’t always do, though, is convey completely what someone is thinking.

I consider myself to be a logophile; I am a lover of words. I enjoy translating the thoughts in my head into words on paper (or, in this case, on a screen). Still, sometimes I am at a loss for words that adequately describe what I really want to say. The last few days, months actually, have been filled with numerous moments like that. I know something isn’t right, yet I cannot find the words to say exactly what. Words like “depressed” and “stressed” give a hint of what is there, but even these words do not do justice to what is going on inside.

Sometimes I wish I could put into words what is going on. Then, maybe others could understand. Please don’t misunderstand my intentions here. I realize that there are some who care even though I am unable to really convey what is happening. I get that. Still, it would bring some sense of relief to have even just one other person who “gets it”, really “gets it”. The frustrating thing for me is that there may be some one out there who would get it. I just can’t fully explain what “it” is.

I could say, and have said, that depression is plaguing me. I know there are people who understand depression. Yet, while depression certainly is present, it is more than that.

I could say I feel lousy physically. I know people who understand chronic illness. Yes, illness is a major part of my situation, but there is more than that.

I could say loneliness is part of the equation. Yes, loneliness is there. Still, loneliness isn’t a new friend. I’ve experienced this for a long time.

Perhaps, if I could take all three, roll them together, and throw in a few ingredients that I can’t quite put my hands on, I would have the exact words to describe where I am and hopefully, someone who would understand, come alongside and help me navigate these rough waters.

At this point, though, I just can’t come up with the words to pull that off. So, I wade further into the waves, hold my breath as some sweep over my head, and hang on, hoping that somehow, someone will be able to understand even though I lack the descriptive words that really express the path I have found myself on.

About becmom45

Wife of one, mom of four, mom-in-law to two, grammy to one precious little boy; lover of snow, autumn, pumpkins, cats, books, baking, Charles Wysocki puzzles, Christmas; honest, raw author who hopes what is written here enlightens and educates those fortunate enough to not understand the demons chronicled.
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