There’s just something about moving across the country, and living alone, and 6 months of winter that really exposes the darkness inside. For a month or so, the emotions passing through my body have been very intense and ever-present. Sometimes bordering on pain, the tightness in my chest stretches from shoulder to shoulder and down to the top of my belly. I feel pressed; my breathing is short. At times, at its most intense, the feeling stretches up and around my neck and I’ve felt choked by it.

And that may sound dark.

But there’s no pity here. It just is what it is. My story isn’t, “Life is shit and we’re all stuck in it.” My story is, “There’s shit in life, and there’s a way through.” I want that to be clear in my writing.

I know, for example, that my current location and lifestyle are not the source of these intense emotions that are coming up. They’re all rooted in the mind and in the seeming past. They’ve been waiting to be called on stage. My new lifestyle simply pulled the curtain open and exposed them.

For example, I don’t have an intense feeling of loneliness because I’m living alone; I have an intense feeling of loneliness because there’s unprocessed loneliness from the past that’s built up inside. Unseen, unloved, “Loneliness” took up residence in my body until I was ready.

Last night I was watching a clip from the Ellen Show, and Ellen asked a boy what he liked best about the show. He said, “You make sure people are ok and happy, especially if they fight.” And these words happened to be the chord that harmonized with my current intense sense of loneliness, and it broke up in that moment and passed away. There was intense crying and release. I had remembered being quite young, and my father came home late and my parents began yelling. I wasn’t exactly sure what was happening because I was alone in my bedroom and the door was shut. I just heard yelling. I wanted to be comforted, but I was afraid to leave. And so I laid in bed, scared, and felt so, so alone. And I must have fallen asleep in that state. That emotion has sat inside me, unprocessed until last night.

There’s a funny thing I’ve noticed, as I continue to write posts like this, and that’s the diversity of people’s responses. The responses seem to range all the way from understanding to pity. And for my part, there is no pity here. On THIS side of a realization all that I ever feel is gratitude.

The only way out is through.

And the ‘through’ part can be quite painful indeed. And the ‘out’ part is always joy.

And if a certain amount of gratitude is not coming through in my posts, then I am not expressing my experience accurately.

The load gets lighter. What’s not to love?

Yes, the winter has been tough, but if not for winter, how to expose the deep sadness inside and let it pass away? Grateful for winter.

Yes, living alone has been tough, but without it, how do I uncover and unroot the chronic loneliness that’s lived inside my whole life? Grateful for solitude.

Yes, it was difficult when the guy I was seeing stopped communicating with me, but without that, how could I root out my deepest insecurities? Grateful for ghosting.

There are times when the feelings have been too intense and too overwhelming, and I allow myself to eat a pint of ice cream and watch an hour of reality tv and “zone out.” There’s no problem with that and I give myself that gift from time to time. It’s the love that works in that moment.

And more often, I choose to remove the distractions and let all the shit come up. And it’s not easy, but I sit with the sensations, the emotions, and the feelings. I work to accept and love what’s coming up. In my experience, that’s the permanent fix.

And that’s the Good News that I try to express in my writing.

And if there isn’t a sense of hopefulness in my words, then I need to work on that.