As the storm approached, D.C. prepared for the worst. A town that is woefully unprepared (in my opinion) to handle any kind of weather emergency used Hurricane Sandy as an opportunity to close schools, shut down the federal government, and take a variety of safety precautions to keep residents physically safe. For the most part it seems that our region escaped the brunt of the physical damage. However, emotional safety isn’t as simple – especially when viewing the tragic mass destruction of the Jersey shoreline.
My power remained on; property protected. I hunkered down alone with my furry family thinking about how it felt a bit like the holiday season — a suspended bit of reality, work kinda there but kinda not — only there were no presents. Hmmmm. Physically, safe. But emotionally, who knows?
It’s Halloween week. The notes have started coming in … people are thinking of me and my family, sending hugs and love. Tomorrow is three years. So … how am I? Who fucking knows.
The isolation of the storm reinforced the deepening sense of loneliness that hits me every year around this time. I wish it was as easy to fix as simply being around people. But I don’t want to be around people. But I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to talk about it, but I want to share every detail of the experience. No, it’s not frustrating at all – for me or for anyone who cares about me.
I force myself through the motions, as I do every year, even every day. It’s just the way life turned out.
Another year. Physically, fine. Emotionally, who knows.