I have found such deep healing in the love and acceptance of
knowing my God loves me - flaws and failures, quirks and smirks, whether I’m
happy or sad, grouchy or glad. There is
a comfort and peace these recent months; more than I have ever known. Yet, the last couple of weeks I have felt the
return of some of the less pleasant feelings. This has been troubling and
challenging because I am wrestling with a returned intensity of loneliness. I
acknowledge that in struggling with these feelings, I am again finding myself
wanting to minimize them and dismiss them as unjustified and unwarranted. Fortunately,
these many months of therapy have brought gifts of awareness and there is a
more compassionate me to be less critical of myself when these feelings
surface.
Having
said that, I can also identify that I am susceptible to addictive behaviors
since the unrest and discomfort prompt those feelings of pain to the level of
wanting to escape and medicate. I know well enough that acting out in my
compulsive behaviors or numbing away my feelings will only delay what I need to
face. My commitment level to my healing is much greater than that; no – the
Sara of recent years is “lean in and own it”. That’s just how I bend these days;
I do not want to return to the numb Sara.
So let’s
lean in and find out what I need to own. What is it about this loneliness that
is so difficult? I begin with asking myself when is the pain the worst? The
bewitching hour is when I go to bed; I simply want to share my life with
someone, and I don’t like sleeping alone.
The intellect of that statement is simple enough; I believe by design we
are programmed to want to connect. I can see that loneliness is part of accepting
my present circumstances. What has been particularly difficult is the intensity
of these feelings, though. They can be
rather unpleasant.
I am all
too familiar with gripping pain. I remember feeling a deep, into-my-core, kind
of pain when I was married. This was perhaps the worst of the worst since I was
physically next to someone whom I loved, to whom I had made vows of lasting
love and commitment, and who I wanted desperately to love me. Yet, there I was –
devastated in the bitter loneliness of rejection. That kind of loneliness is
truly debilitating. My medicating and escaping were understandable, albeit so
very unhealthy.
The loneliness
that I am feeling of late is not the same thankfully. I am not rejected and I
am aware that I am by myself, yet I am not alone. Rather, this loneliness has some residue of
an early time from my childhood. What I recall from my days as a young girl
growing up in my family of origin is that I knew I was loved; that I was aware
that I had a very good life because my parents provided for me and took care of
my (physical) needs. I had such compassion for those I perceived as less fortunate
than I, especially those existing on such minimal provision. I wanted to be
grateful for what I had been given. I suppose I learned at an early age to
minimize my needs because I didn't feel that I was particularly worthy of
having it “better” than someone else.
There is
a certain type of loneliness in that kind of thinking because I couldn't share
those feelings deep inside me. To do so would expose something very shameful in
me – that having such emotional needs was to be greedy, needy, demanding, and ungrateful.
I think what I wanted was the kind of attention
of being seen and appreciated for in my complexity as a person, not merely for
the compliant child who did for others. There
was a sense that because I had been given more than most children, to voice any
additional need was to be ungrateful. I hadn't done anything particularly worthy
of what I had been given so asking for more than what I was given would have
been audacious, and that was very
unacceptable. In fact to express it would have been shameful.
Back to today’s loneliness: what
does all this have to do with my recent feelings (I’m leaning in; I’m willing
to own it, but it doesn't always make sense to me.) I suppose I’m back to the issue of asking for
more. Do I get to voice my needs, because I’m feeling very undeserving and
unentitled. Yet, if asked…I want more. I
see that more is available and I want the fullness that I see is available.
Wanting that exposes some guilt and shame (again?! They seem to reappear over
and over, don’t they?) because I think it says that I am ungrateful. I know that I have come far in my healing;
that I have awareness and acceptance. I
have worked through so many issues, I have overcome a lot of my harmful and
unhealthy behaviors. There is this sense that my gratitude for this should
suffice. I am truly grateful. These feelings
of wanting more expose how young Sara related to her world. As an adult
I get to define my needs and set about getting them met. There is no guilt or shame in that, and to my
surprise, by my releasing those, I also feel less lonely. In
fact, I feel empowered by my adult awareness, and realize that only my opinion
on what is enough matters. There is nothing lonely in that, but I alone get to
make that call!
