{"id":171,"date":"2007-03-20T10:19:12","date_gmt":"2007-03-20T15:19:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/?p=171"},"modified":"2007-03-20T10:19:12","modified_gmt":"2007-03-20T15:19:12","slug":"so-alone-and-so-far-away","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/?p=171","title":{"rendered":"So alone and so far away"},"content":{"rendered":"

There are some days when I just feel so lonely. Like there’s no one to talk to; no one who I can truly relate to; no one who I can entirely be myself with. Today is one of those days. I don’t know why. It’s not really been any different than any other day. <\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 For all the things I fill my time with, there are still a lot of days when I have nothing more to do than feed myself and clean the house. Suddenly, the idea of making myself a sad little lunch and eating it while I watch BBC World (if the satellite is working in the snow) then doing the dishes and vacuuming is just more than I can take. <\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And for as nice (yes, I’m sticking with that bland word) as all the people are who I’ve met here, I don’t think a single one would let the f-word slip into conversation… let alone dominate it. The idea that a year ago I spent many, many hours a day muttering, saying or screaming that word would leave them speechless. Let’s just say… I cannot totally relate to them. And vice versa.<\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I often feel that the very things that have shaped me into the person I am are things that no one here would accept… let alone understand. So I keep a lot to myself. Which often means I feel like I am keeping to myself… and not really being myself.<\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 After picking Kaitlyn up from school, we were stopped by a funeral procession walking from the church to the graveyard. All I could do was sit in my car and cry and cry. Kaitlyn told me to be happy, but I just couldn’t. All I could think about was Mom. And the only person I felt I could talk to was Kaitlyn. Sad, really.<\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 There’s no one here I can really talk to about any of this. Because I feel like every move you make and every word you say is being judged. Because we’re all going through such a very surreal experience and the only measuring stick we have for ourselves is the others we can see and, naturally, each of us wants to measure ourselves as doing better than someone else. <\/font><\/font><\/p>\n

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\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 But here I sit, sniffling and crying. I don’t even know anymore what is wrong. <\/font><\/font><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

There are some days when I just feel so lonely. Like there’s no one to talk to; no one who I can truly relate to; no one who I can entirely be myself with. Today is one of those days. I don’t know why. It’s not really been any different than any other day. \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-171","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/171","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=171"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/171\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=171"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=171"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/kaitlyn-marsue.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=171"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}