I Wonder

Please give me a pass for sounding incredibly pathetic right now, but I have a mental catalog of really great hugs I’ve received. I suddenly thought of someone I haven’t seen in about a year who gave me a great hug the last time we saw each other. It was a lingering hand hug – you know, the kind where the hug is officially over but neither removes their hands quickly. It occurred to me that I might have written in my journal about that hug, so I started digging through my drawers and retrieving old diaries.

As I was looking through them, page by page, I was struck by how much I have changed and how little my life has. The entries from last year could be the ones from yesterday, and the ones from two years ago could be the ones I’ll write tomorrow. I write with more finesse, maybe, or a slight twang of additional maturity, but I’m still dealing with the same difficulties. No matter how I change, advance, grow or learn, I can’t get away from this pervasive problem of my life.

I never imagined I would graduate high school and be sick. I’ve accepted a lot and have a lot of accepting left to do, but nothing can alter the fact that I’m greatly displeased with what is happening in my life. The things I’ve been writing here for over two years, about how little control I have over what happens to me and how useless hopes seem to be, are as relevant as they’ve ever been.

Now don’t get me a wrong, I’m a pro at making the best of whatever situation I find myself in. I believe in seeing and appreciating the good as I live, and remind myself every day how important it is not to see good only in retrospect. Not to look back on a time in my life and see some good aspect of it that I didn’t realize was there at the time. So as I suffer and smile through it I make lists in my mind of everything that is good, and this helps me. Helps me some, but not quite enough. Not enough to cover the sadness.

The sadness. It runs deep, maybe through my veins or my nerves, maybe in my heart or in my soul. I prefer to be alone with it, to retreat at times and allow myself to feel it as it courses, because I have a lot to cry for. I have a lot to be thankful for, but also a lot to cry for. The pain is a constant that seems to stem from my very core and that makes no sense, but the sadness I understand from the inside out. It’s there in the silence and it resonates in music, it thrums in my ears as I walk and buzzes in front of my eyes as I sleep. It’s a part of me, an integral component in my days. I live with it and it lives in me. But I no longer wonder why.

I try to remember that maybe the fact that I can’t imagine my future means it is destined to be better than anything I ever could imagine. I read my diaries and see the process of becoming who I am right now, a person I genuinely like. I can’t put my finger on just when it happened, but I have become an adult. I think practically and reasonably about decisions in my life, and I spend so much of my time now thinking of what I’d like to do with it. What do I want to study? What shall my profession be? Where do I want to live? (How will I afford that?) Which is the ladder I would like to climb?

It’s a quick step to the spiral of anxiety, realizing no matter how I plan I cannot conquer this disease and cannot live to my fullest potential. I harbored a secret hope that after finishing high school I would start to feel better and that I’d slowly but surely rise out of the pain. But alas, I’m just as sick as I was before, and I need to start figuring out how to manage adulthood in my current state. This point in my life is about proving that even if I am sick, I can still be okay.

I remember my childhood so vividly. I remember crying and thinking that good tears should not go to waste, trying to find a parent in the house and show them my state to receive some extra hugs. The real world doesn’t dole out any extra hugs when I suffer. I no longer wonder why.

I am still, in my essence, happy. But I am still, in my reality, sad. I mourn for the things I cannot have, cannot do and cannot be. I mourn.

There’s doubt. Isn’t there always? I doubt that I will ever get better. I doubt that I will live to see a time of peace in the world. I doubt that… that…

Well, this leads us to a sore spot. I know I’m lovable, okay? I know that. It’s not one of the things I doubt. It’s just something that has yet to be proven. I feel so silly for writing this, but in a way I feel it should be recorded just the same as all my other feelings.

No one has taken an interest. I’m the last of my friends… I’ve never been asked out, never been kissed, never been the object of someone’s crush. And I know my time will come, that I just haven’t met the right person yet, and that we each have our own timelines. But it makes me wonder. I wonder: why hasn’t anyone taken an interest?

When will it be my time? My time to be healthy, my time to be loved, my time to be free…

I wonder and will continue to wonder, but one thing can be said for sure, and that is that time doesn’t stop. In this moment I am older than I have ever been before and the youngest I will ever be again, and that in itself is a beautiful thing. Maybe life won’t disappoint me.

I know we’ll be fine when we learn to love the ride.

Love,

Ella

Song Quote:

If I fell in love a thousand times, would it all make sense? –Sense, Tom Odell

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8 comments on “I Wonder

  1. Josephine says:

    Oh my darling. I just graduated yesterday and I know the feeling, I can totally understand you. I have social anxiety and it makes me quite sad that right now i still struggle with it and the nervousness everyday, in fact I feel it is getting worse now that school is over.
    It’s gonna be a long process to get better and the idea that it might never get better is so easy to fall into.
    You are very strong 💓 and I have friends who have never had love interests, so don’t linger on those thoughts. Take this as your opportunity to explore the world and explore yourself as a person. Because we can never truly love another fully if we are still broken inside of ourselves 💓

    Like

  2. MjBee says:

    I can relate to so much of this. I feel my sadness runs very deep as well, and I like to hide it and deal with it on my own terms. Im also afraid of what my life may or may not be with chronic illness. Hang in there, this is a beautiful post, you are not alone in your struggles xo

    Like

  3. I fully understand the feeling of constantly wondering when that time will come to meet someone who wants to be there for you always.

    What I’ve realized and try to do now is to focus on helping someone else, in the meantime. If I can help someone else to have a better day or make a positive impact on someone’s life, then my time goes unwasted while I wait, for as long as I wait.

    I love your attitude, by the way. Stay positive and keep moving forward. Someone will notice you, and when that happens, it’ll be like these days of waiting never were, for forever is in a moment of sharing love. :)

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  4. I can relate to the chronic illness and missing your healthy self. Half the battle is the attitude you have- it sounds cliché but it’s true. I think your inventory of hugs is sweet and it can take some people a long time to find the person they are meant to be with so keep an open mind and a positive attitude- remember, what you put out in the universe is what you get back! Good luck and keep blogging.
    -Claudia
    http://www.ourgussie.com
    LIfe lessons from my father

    Like

  5. I follow your blog since i first discovered it with a kind of interest that is difficult to explain…so much to say and yet these words can be so restricting.

    I know you love good music so instead i would instead like to engage/introduce you through/to a beautiful song/band all the way from pakistan :)

    Like

  6. kcg1974 says:

    Sending you love and prayers, Ella. Totally understandable to ‘mourn’ the loss of your ‘healthy’ self, of what has changed in life and may never be. Lingering hugs to you with a wish and a dream for a special someone to cherish you your whole life through. Blessings.

    Liked by 2 people

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