Amplified Solitude

Have you ever been so alone to the point where you end up talking to yourself or, in more extreme cases, train your nerves to simulate and trick your brain that you are being hugged tightly by someone? Have you ever been that unfortunate?

I've been having an off day. Things just were not going the way I wanted them too. My pens ran out on me while drawing. The parts I wanted to come out gold came out pumpkin orange. I lost the graceful curve and Art Decco style of a piece with the unexpected twist of my wrist in the wrong direction. My hand went numb from drawing and shading and inking and coloring for countless hours. My thumb formed a small dent due to my vice grip on the pencils. I snapped at my aunt for reading a message board post over my shoulder. I had yet another bad IM session after being contacted by David and the others no more than a week ago.

And then I went to my room, like a child being punished by his parents. I went and continued my homework. I did it because I had to.

The other night, I had the blessed opportunity to talk to Bill. He said something that triggered a dream I had too perfect and too impossible for words to even describe. He said that once we meet, he may introduce me to my future husband. No, he said he will introduce me to my future husband. He wants to keep his word to it, and for that I admire and thank him even though our relationship between each other has been like that of a pair of wolves from two different packs.

That promise. That dream. Both triggered something just now.

I sat there coloring in a jellyfish-inspired dress with Inuyasha running in the background. Hunched over my drawing pad like a gargoyle, I toiled away at my assignment. Then I felt it. I felt a pain in my heart I wish I could grow numb to. I felt something else as well. Someone was hugging me from behind across my chest, across my heart, and pressing against my neck lovingly. No one was in the room, and I have no dead relatives that I can remember ever doing that to me ever in their lifetime. My brain was tricked by my own loneliness.

In that moment, I learned something about myself I wish I learned sooner.

I now know the real reason why I feel my art is never up to par. I now know why everything I do feels like a chore. I now know why I'm so unmotivated.

I never had anyone there to encourage me. I mean, really encourage me. I never had someone tell me what a good job I've done on a regular basis. I rarely get complimented on my art at home. The last time I had anything remotely like that was last semester, but what killed the moment was when my mother admitted that she didn't know I was capable of producing such beautiful art work. She hardly knows me at all.

I never had anyone love me and baby me. I know it sounds greedy of me, but some people need to be babied. Some people are that insecure with themselves, with life. The last time I can remember coming close to being told that everything will work out and that I'm doing good was back when I was trying to do whatever it was I was trying to do in Seattle with Dan. Even that, unfortunately, had its mood killer.

I never had anyone or any thing happen to me that instilled some kind of confidence in me. If anything, I had things happen to me that sucked most of my self confidence out of me.

A strong surge of goose bumps ran down my left hand from my left chest just now while trying to think about what I should type. It felt like someone was first hugging me and then rubbing my arm, as if to tell me that it is okay to let everything out. Another trick caused by my loneliness since I don't remember anyone in my life that has died doing that to me while they were still alive.

Do you see now? Do you see what being alone can do to someone who cannot help the way they act or the way they are? Do you see what it does to people who are not strong enough for whatever reason?

I hope so.