What is it to be alone?
What is it to be alone? I sit here tonight and mull solemnly over this question. I have wanted for some time to try and express this most distressing of feelings in words. You see I am socially phobic and have been since childhood. I have no real memories of ever being non phobic, only the briefest recollections from the dimmest corners of my mind. My phobia as severely affected my ability to form relationships even within my family. This as resulted in me living as a recluse over the last eight years with very little social interactions and the social isolation led to depression and suicidal thoughts. Although since my diagnosis and treatment over the last year I have made considerable progress. I now feel that my future is not as bleak as it once looked but I am still so desolately alone. And of all the distress and difficulties that my anxiety as inflicted upon me this is by far the most grievous of wounds. I would gladly bare all my other woes for the rest of eternity if I just had some companionship. So how do I put so much pain and sorrow into words? Well here goes...
I awoke in the morning and I lifted my hand to brush the hair from your face so that I might gaze upon it.... but you were not there.
I walked out onto the landing and noticed the bathroom door was closed. I smiled and called to you not to be too long... but you did not reply.
I went downstairs and made your favorite for breakfast and hummed a tune to myself while I waited for you to join me... but you did not appear.
I walked back upstairs and called to you again... but there was only silence.
I opened the bathroom door expecting to see your warm smile and hear your playful voice chastising me for my impatience... but you had left.
I frowned and raced downstairs, I opened the front door hoping to catch a glimpse of you as you pulled off in you car... but you had already gone.
I decided to go for a walk, I went to the park and sat on the bench where we first kissed. The memory made me smile and I looked down to where I carved you name in the wood... but it was no longer there.
I watched as a young lad played with his dog. He was trying to make it return a stick he kept throwing. But he got increasingly frustrated as it
just kept cocking its head with a perplexed expression upon its face. I laughed as I though of how you would have giggled at the sight of the poor lads plight. So I took the mobile from my pocket and rang you, eager to hear your voice... but you did not answer.
I went to the shops and bought something for supper, a bottle of wine and a DVD. I made us supper, lit some candles, poured the wine and waited for you... but you did not return home.
I took the DVD out of the case. It was a romantic comedy, the one you said you wanted to watch. I know I didn't fancy it myself but I was happy to sit back on our sofa and cuddle up to you while we watched it... but you still was not here and I watched it alone.
I went up to bed and before I switched off the lamp I leaned over to kiss you good night... but I was alone.
I switched off the lamp and closed my eyes. I tried to picture you face... but I could not.
I felt so alone and I wept.
To all of you lonely souls who carry this curse, I weep for you too.
Take care,
John
__________________
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear.
From the book Dune by Frank Herbert