First Letter

So Mike, 

I am going to write like this.  

Recently, I have had trouble focusing on myself. You already know I have been working on myself these years. I try to find my inner strength, so I don’t need to seek validation from others. I try to calm myself down to block the noise from distracting me. I have tried meditation, counseling, and reading self-help books. However, when the buzz comes back to my head, I immediately slip into the dark hole; it is still difficult to overcome.  

As you suggested, it is helpful to talk to someone. But in my case, as an immigrant who has lived in this country, in a small beach town for ten years, I just haven’t developed many friends. I feel a little ashamed to acknowledge that. In my mind, a person who doesn’t have friends is as shameful as being poor, ugly, etc.  

Even though it is the 21st century, a stigma is still attached to the abovementioned qualities. I argued that being ugly is not something one can control, so we should exclude that from the list. Being poor is also not something a person should take full responsibility for, so as an educated person, I can take that off the list, too. However, does one having no friends imply that the person is not accepted by society or welcomed by others?  

We all know humans are social animals. How come I have none to drink with or curse with? I try to pretend that I don’t care so maybe others won’t notice. But how can I hide it? The facts speak loud.  

I am so fascinated by using my Grampa’s weeder to remove the weeds from my yard over the weekend. I even had to pull all the weeds from my eighty-seven-year-old neighbor’s yard to fulfill the satisfaction of using Grampa’s weeder. (BTW. It is a fabulous tool I bought on Amazon; you should get one if you have these thistles like the ones I have in our yard. ) I could easily find a quotation from a book that fits a situation but not a number to call when I feel down. 

Well, I also know I am responsible for this situation. Like many women in this country, I must attend to my kids in addition to my job. And guess what? I don’t know whether it’s because of insecurity or because I am trying to use my busyness to fill the void in my heart; I am also taking some online classes.  

Busy makes me feel valuable, you know. I am scared of sitting there and staring at my reality. Am I? But being busy also makes me lose ownership of myself. I am a student in class, a mom when I get home, and an advisor at work. See, how could I have time to be the lonely aging lady?  

I am hiding something from others. I am a freaky old lady. 🙂 

Fern