In this possibly-the-wettest-winter-on-record in northern California, we had an intimation of spring for a few days, several days ago. The temps were in the mid- to high-60s, the skies were clear and sunny, I sat on my patio, I wore aloha shirts and flipflops. But now it's raining again. Winter will end at some point in the near future...eventually.
Totally different subject ~ now that I am no longer following anything political, and by that I mean I went so far this time as to even cancel my print subscription to The Nation, in addition to ditching Facebook again, and Twitter, all of which were my only sources of news...with those obvious distractions gone, I am feeling less connected again to the world. This is where I'd post that cartoon, if I had access to it, that says, "My desire to know what's happening in the world is directly opposed to my desire to stay sane," or something like that.
It's better this way, of course, the sane way. And I have a lot more space to focus on my interior world, for better or worse, where things can be dicey and painful at times. Where I often come face to face with my emotional limitations, along with my strengths. Where I realize just how alone I am in the world ~ not lonely, but definitely alone, solo, a solitaire. Where I'm forced, again and again, to realize that I am the only person I can truly count on in life, for anything, and everything.
The older I get, the more aware of all this I become. It's said that we are all really interdependent, that we need each other in order to survive and function. I've learned the hard way over the years to have no needs, especially emotional needs. Because there's truly never been anyone in my life to meet those needs for me. I've had to rely on myself.
I never had a family that I would call a "family," as we typically think of family. People to fall back on, people who would be there no matter what, people who loved me for who I was/who I am, people who could be counted on to help and support, people I could truly trust. Not my original family, nor anyone since.
In this day and age we all like to say that we choose our family, the people we're closest to, our friends, are our real family. The sad truth is, family is just a six-letter word. With the exception of one friend, who lives a day's drive away, I've never really felt included in my friends' lives at the "family" level, despite their saying they consider me family.
It makes me very sad indeed. But it's just what's so.
I soldier on on my own, rarely asking for help because it's almost never there. Feeling like a footnote in friends' lives, someone on the periphery, an outlier.
Thus is and has been my inner reality.