i once knew her as a girl—she was brave, optimistic, hopeful, and full of life. i’m looking at the women in front of me, and i can’t believe i’m her. The person staring at me in the mirror—she’s familiar, yet she’s a stranger. i don’t know her anymore. And i haven’t known her for quite some time.
As i look at myself in the mirror, i don’t recognize that woman staring back at me. Her face is much larger, and there are so many lines. What are those spots dancing around? Her eyes are sad, and her face isn’t bright or happy.
Where did she go? That 20 something year old girl—full of life. Now she stands here 52, lifeless, lacking joy and is filled with sadness. She has given so much. Too much to others and received nothing in return. is it because she didn’t expect anything?
i have loved, but i have remained unloved.
i’ve cared, and i still do yet i have not been cared about.
i’ve heard others as they spoke to me in confidence, but i’m yet to be heard.
i’ve loved my friends unconditionally, yet i’ve received friendships with conditions at best.
As i look her in the eye, i can’t help but say i’m so sorry. i’m sorry i didn’t value you enough to demand more. i’m sorry i didn’t love you enough to truly see you. i’m sorry i didn’t care enough to hear your voice. i wasn’t right to you, and i’m so sorry. i have instead given my all to men, family, and friendships. i worried about them and their needs without any regard for you.
Sadness fills my heart as i sit here in tears. i feel cheated and hopeless. The one life i’ve been granted has been lived for everyone except me, the person it was granted to.
it took me being here—locked away in my apartment for me to be honest with myself. i guess i’ll go with a Cliché here— quarantined life will do that to a girl.
it’s been six days since i wrote those words. i spent the last six days in bed, depressed and locked away from the world. i’m to read the words written by me i’m so afraid. i needed to be with myself without any distractions, and i needed to figure out where to go from where i am.
i’m unhappy, i feel unloved, but most of all i feel stuck, and i don’t know how to get unstuck. i’ve never had a journal, and i’ve never done anything like this before, honestly sharing my deepest feelings. i’ve always been afraid to think about myself, feel my emotions, or be with myself.
Being busy—working hard has distracted me for thirty years. Where did my life go? And how do i get it back? i’m not sure how to go on. i’m not sure if i can go on. i’m not sure i can go back to normal. i feel so alone—there is no one to turn to. i have no one.
The above is a part of Sharon’s Morning Pages. After I received her email, Sharon decided she no longer wanted me to share this bit of her story, and I respected her wishes. But two days ago, I received this email from Sharon.
Thank you for respecting my wishes and not posting my story i appreciate it. i would also like to thank you for including those resources in your response. Thank you for caring enough about what happens to me. I never thought of myself as being suicidal i’ve always been strong and have been told that i must be strong. But i’m not or i don’t feel that way right now. i called the suicide hotline and i’m getting the help i didn’t know i needed.
Nat i would like you to share my story if you’re still interested maybe it will help someone the way you’ve helped me. It has not been easy but i no longer feel alone. i don’t want to seem overly zealous but Nat thank you from the bottom of my heart. i hope we can meet after things go back to normal.
We’ve all been at a place where we felt stuck—being stuck at home can make us realize just how truly stuck we are. I’m happy that Sharon gave me permission to share her story and I’m grateful that she strong and brave to get the help she needs. Sometimes the most difficult thing as a woman is to admit that we need help. I have spoken with Sharon. She’s doing great. She sounds excited and filled with life. She’s also funny, wise and kind. I can’t wait to meet her. Sharon is located in Bed-Stuy.
If you’re wondering—what is Morning Pages? It’s from a book written by Julia Cameron “The Artist Way” — great book and worthy of reading.
Thank you Sharon for being brave and sharing your story with us ❤️.
As Always, I’m sending Love. Stay Safe.