Tag Archives: loneliness

Low patch

On top of my weekly roundup on a Sunday I try and write one blog post a week on a specific topic but the last few weeks I’ve been struggling.  I’m usually a gobby mare who never shuts up but the truth is I’m feeling a bit low at the moment and can’t think of anything to say.

I’ve been lying here pondering what’s really going on and I think I’m just feeling a bit lonely.  As I said in a recent blog post, during the winter everyone else is stuck indoors like me but in the summer it’s very obvious that healthy people are out having fun with their nearest and dearest and the fact I’m imprisoned in bed on my own feeling rubbish really hits home.

I’ve been single now for 10 years and while in many respects I love being on my own the lack of human contact seriously gets me down.  I have not been touched by another person in a decade and we’re simply not meant to live in that kind of isolation.  We have an innate need for physical connection – someone to hug us when we’re upset, someone to hold our hand when we’re frightened, someone to kiss us to share in our happiness.  The absence of that is something you never get used to and can, at times, become an actual physical ache of longing.

It’s bad enough that you have no-one with whom to share your life.  There’s no-one to ring when something great happens, no-one to care for you when you’re injured, no-one to help with chores when you’re exhausted, no-one to discuss Love Island with 😉   But for me the lack of physical contact is the thing which brings me to my knees.

There is no solution either.  I mean, you can pay someone to help with the housework or the garden and I do have my parents and friends I can chat to, but you can’t pay someone to lie and snuggle with you or to sneak up and kiss you on the neck when you’re doing the washing up.   You can’t pay someone to hold your hand while you’re waiting for an MRI scan or to massage your shoulders when you’ve got a migraine coming on.

So I apologise if I’m a bit quiet.  I’ll get over it, it’s not like I have a choice, but just at the mo I’m having a bit of a pity party and the only guests are my rampant hormones which are making me weepy (when are they going to bugger off?!).  I can’t even get drunk and binge on chocolate, which some days is worse than being alone, or dance to It’s My Party And I’ll Cry If I Want To cos my knees are playing up.  Fucking hell my life actually sucks 😀




Bring me sunshine

It’s summer here in the UK and for once it’s living up to its name.  Trust me when I say that up north that doesn’t happen much – it usually just rains a lot and is warm(ish) for a month or two before going back to being winter again 😉  But this year we’re having a heat wave, and it’s glorious to feel the sun on my parched skin and breathe in hot air scented with the lavender which lines my garden path.

It’s also very lonely.

I’m in bed by 3pm nearly every day and as the afternoon sun streams onto the sheets I can hear the world continuing around me, oblivious to my absence.  Children playing.  The whine of lawn mowers.  Snippets of conversation as neighbours chat over garden walls.  The smell of bar-b-qs wafting on the breeze through my bedroom window.  Faint music rising from sun dappled gardens.  Clinking wine glasses, droning insects, the Pennine fells bathed in orange glow from the setting sun.  And me where I always am………alone here in my bed, with my dog and the telly for company, wishing I was out there too.

Most of the people in my village think I’m more than a bit strange.  They know I’m ill but the fact my illness doesn’t take the odd day off now and then, especially on a balmy summer’s evening, they find a tad anti-social.  I’m not included in the calls to “pop round later to down a beer with my name on it” not that I could go even if I were.  No-one tags me in a merry stupor on Facebook for the rest of the neighbours to see.

It’s nights like tonight when I’m acutely aware of my isolation and I have this huge ache in my heart to be out there, mingling, laughing, chewing the fat over world events, slumped in a garden chair with my bare feet on the cooling grass.  Drinking wine.  Being normal.   Just…..being.

“Full many a flower is born to blush unseen
and waste its sweetness on the desert air….”
Thomas Gray, Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard