I’m unpacking and packing my luggage within a couple of hours. Here, there, gone.
It’s time to return to Lucerne; the thought of it freaks me out. Meeting everyone again after a long time of absence.. I feel like I can’t do it, I want to be alone and hide while at the same time it’s the loneliness that’s eating me, the fear of realising that the connection is gone, people are okay without me, don’t miss me at all.
I depend on them so much.
But I’ve lived alone for a year and thrived in the solitude. I know I can do this, I don’t need people. However, my memory is the worst, the past doesn’t exist, there’s only the now and currently it feels impossible to manage.
Then some friends reach out, send me words of comfort that I wrap around my anxious little soul to feel warm again. And slowly the anxiety and coldness ceases. I’m not alone.
my sense of home is messed up. i’m back to the place i didn’t want to leave three months ago and it repels me.
anxiety runs through my veins, scrawls under my skin while i’m waiting.
i fall back into the past. relapse. is it spring or autumn or the spring that came before winter returned?
i’m so desperate for company, for people who keep me grounded.
push away / run / disappear
i try to reach out, poor little pitiable me. it feels desperate, i’m swallowing my pride. when have i become a welfare case?
it feels like trying to force people to stay with me.
i’ve been dying to see them again. spend hours talking, enjoying each other’s company, catching up. connecting.
just like before. things were just perfect late spring, i asked for a lot and gave as much and it was right.
but their lives’ moved on. i’m not important anymore, lost my place, went down their list of priorities.
and again i’m too much. too close. too needy. too everything, i’m never the perfect amount of anything.
i’ve been trying to endure this vulnerability, letting people stay important to me even though it doesn’t feel mutual.
but it’s really hard not to slam the door now, to tear down the foundations of what we’ve built, set everything on fire.
Then a dear friend and her friend return to where I’m sitting all miserable and alone. They enthusiastically insist on me joining them even though I’m in an obvious low, an absolute party pooper. I show some resistance, think of going home, but my anxiety and fears get disarmed by their conviction.
They persuade me, not minding my gloomy mood. I don’t understand how they want to spend time with me while I’m in this state, but they make me feel less horrible. The broken pieces are mend for tonight. It doesn’t take a lot to save me, but I can’t do it on my own.