2 posts tagged “compassion”

Last night I had a dream that a man came to me in my sleep. He did not have me sexually. He simply put his hand on my forehead, stroked my hair and kissed my cheek. I went to sleep last night with ache in both of my legs. When it is cold outside my legs hurt. In my dream, he eased my pain. He put his hands to my legs and gently rubbed them, pulling out the knots in the muscles and relaxing me. I remember him holding me while I cried. It was mercy. But, when I woke up this morning my leg ache was still there, no one was near me and I truly felt alone.

I feel abandoned by everyone who should be there for me. Some of my dearest friends have made their decisions, their judgments and to them, I'm not worthy of their comfort, empathy or compassion. One could say they aren't truly a friend, but to me they are dear to me. I forgive all too easily. I love with all my heart, even if it rips my heart apart. I need their compassion.
 
I truly long for human contact. It is cold outside and to save money on heating costs, I keep the thermostat on low. I can only cover up in so many blankets before I am wishing for the warmth of another.  I hate the hours where I am here, in my empty apartment. I become excited at the thought of going to work. When I am here, as I am now, in my apartment, I try to find things to do. I cook and I clean. Sometimes I read. But, I do not enjoy it or find the meaning I once found in it. I've lost interest in things I love. I used to draw. I used to paint.

I've become depressed to a point I never thought I would return to. I was here, once, long ago, when I was a child. I was a girl and my parents fought quite a lot. Before the realization, I remember being very small, too young to know of their troubles, and running through corn stalks, thinking how good it was to be alive. Then, slowly over time I became aware of my parents problems. I remember at about the age of 10 coming to a point of despair in which I wanted to fall asleep and never wake up. I couldn't feel safe. I feel as if I've returned to this feeling.

I want someone to come sit with me. I want someone to hold me. I want someone to look into my eyes and tell me everything is going to be okay. I feel isolation and despair eating me alive. I fear that I no longer have enough vigor left in me to fight. I used to have strength. I used to take a stand for things I didn't feel were right. I would pick myself up and keep on going. I had a plan. Now I see my plans and my hopes and I can't seem to focus on the details, the steps they require. I feel paralyzed. I wish someone would come free me from the prison I am in, trapped inside my own hopelessness. I swear, a simple and consistent it's going to be alright, you can do this, would give me just enough courage and strength to keep going. I need true empathy.

It would be easier if the people telling and talking words would realize it's their actions, their deeds that mean the most, that motivate me and inspire me, keep me pushing through. The words come so easy to say, and to them these words are the solution. I hear the words all around. But for me, high up on a ladder I've started to climb, if I don't see my dearest standing below me, ready to catch me should I fall, I feel nothing but distraught.

I have an apartment of my own now. I will soon have a better job and a car. I'll bring my son home. But right now, at this moment, I feel lost. I'm trying so hard to focus on me. Me. My life. Everyone keeps telling ME that. "Focus on you, Kristen," they all tell me. That's easier said than done. I barely know how. I'm so used to caring for another, nurturing a love, and a family.

I hate to feel this helpless and hopeless. I feel so pathetic. But, I can't help it. It's how I feel. I hate it. It surely will pass though. Somehow I'll adjust. And, maybe by putting this down in writing and posting it, bearing all that makes me feel weak and ashamed, others who might be in my shoes will know they, too, are not alone.

First of all, thank you everyone. I cannot tell you all what it means to have your compassion and encouragement as I have been enduring problems in my marriage and life, and dealing with the depression and discouragement that has followed.

What wonderful friends I have.

The past couple of days, I've found it hard to write. It makes me uncomfortable to talk about my marriage. Sometimes when it's not going as I'd like, I feel like a failure as a woman, a wife and a mother when things hit rock bottom on my life. My pride doesn't like to advertise "she's having problems."

Yet, I felt I had to express my feelings.

One reason why I haven't addressed each and every one of you is because I am overwhelmed with your care, concern, and compassion, I don't know where to begin, or how to find the words. My appreciation goes so deep.

I want you all to know that as soon as your comments and emails started pouring in, I began to feel better. I felt a huge weight lift from my spirit. I felt strong. I felt on the path to restoration.

My fever broke last night and I coughed less. I looked into the mirror, as applied make-up and brushed my hair. I saw the face of a woman. Never in my life has my reflection stared back so strong, so intensely, so woman.

Yesterday and the night before were some of the darkest hours in a great long time. I wouldn't say I am 100% better. I feel as if I am half way there, to pulling myself out of the hole I was in. But the light shines down upon me, in this dark place. And I find myself climbing out a lot faster than I anticipated. I know soon, I'll be back to my usual, happy, bright self.

I owe that not just to all of you, my friends, but mostly to my husband.

He is a wonderful man.

Last night he returned from work with a gentle hug to greet me. He brought me chicken soup and medicine for my UT infection - which wasn't cheap. He brought me a bag of body wash and lotions from Bath & Body Works and while the giving of a gift doesn't necessarily take the pain or hurt away, or makes things suddenly better, it was a wonderful, kind and thoughtful gesture.

He knows how much I love fragrances. He wrote on the bag, "To Marilyn Monroe, your #1 stalker." And he informed he that while he was shopping for the fragrances, he took the time to ask the women who worked in the store what sort of things I might like, based on my personality and my favorite smells. It meant so much to me that he did this, that he made this effort.

I spoke to him about me getting my driver's license. He says it is about time and that I was right in needing and wanting this. While we cannot quite afford the car insurance for me to drive right now, he says he will help me to get my license and add me onto the insurance later, when we can afford it.

The rest of it was said in the silent glances we exchanged that night and the way he held my hand. I saw in his eyes the willingness, compassion and understanding of a man who loves his wife and wants to please her. I realized I cannot hold back my feelings and let them later explode onto him in one giant emotional eruption. I realized, he's just a man. He cannot read my mind. He needs me to tell him how I feel, so he can please me.

My mother-in-law took our son for the night. We went out to ice cream and had a banana split, as a couple on a date. We laughed, joked and talked like we hadn't talked in a long time. I told him "we need to do this every week. We need to just drop the kid off at your mom's and have a date. This sort of thing is so good." And he agreed, most definitely.

Then we went to a movie. I asked him to pick the picture. I wanted him to know the night wasn't all about me after all and that he mattered too.  However, even though he picked the film, I think he picked it with me in mind. He knows I love the fantastical, magical and imaginative world of myth and legend.

Pan's Labyrinth- If you are into the gothic-imaginative, you must see this movie.

He chose the most beautiful, imaginative movie, after searching through trailers online. I think it was the best movie I have ever seen, in a long time.

It was called Pan's Labyrinth.

There was magic, love, death, war, fauns and faeries, princesses and kings and queens. It was dark, it was gothic, yet it was full of light and splendor. I believe it was called "a fairy tale for adults."

It was such a wonderful film. I left with a lump in my throat but also, a happiness because the story itself was pure good triumphing over evil.

This film fit what we went through together. He really picked it for me.

As I write this, I look back on the past two days and I ask myself "Did I question my marriage? My faith? Did I lose hope? Did I really think that little girl inside of me wanted to be liked by a friend who was full of jealousy and envy?"

Yet now, to my amazement, the woman that stares back at me in the mirror smiles and I feel I am so close to being recovered, restored to new. 

I believe one of you wrote: 

"As for your faith, this will probably sound strange coming from an atheist like me, but I think you should forget about what other people are doing, saying, and thinking and concentrate on what YOU believe. Plenty of Christians wonder, question, and doubt, but they say it makes their faith stronger. At the end of the day, either you believe or you don't."

This piece of advice has really stuck out for me. It's not hard to figure out who wrote this, if you read through comments, but she knows who she is and if you do find her, she's a wonderful person. She even offered to mail me antibiotics. So many other friends reached out. You all know who you are and you all mean so much to me. We are strangers most of us, but not so much if you think about it.

Thank you all for being a part of my expressive, passionate life.

I'm just so grateful for the man I married. He loves me more than I sometimes realize or could possibly know. Sometimes trying to grasp that knowledge is difficult. One cannot grasp it, one can only lovingly feel it when it comes to pass.