I move in a handful of days, trying to balance work, case studies, analyses, homework, and class, with the complexities of organizing a move, unpacking, and building a home. My mind is overstressed, as it has barely been remembering a moment. Caught in the what ifs and replaying of lessons from my past.
And as the day grows closer my mother looked at me with saddened, questioning eyes. She began with, “I know you’ve been lonely the last six months”. I am assuming she is talking about COVID, as she discusses seeing friends upon my return to the city I call home. She recommends setting aside half a day per week to see others, but then her eyes look deeper into my soul, as her voice shakes and she musters the words “promise me, please promise me, if you ever feel lonely, too lonely, as it will be your first time without living with another, please call”. I absorb her words and they change meaning as she adds “I will drive to you, no matter the time, even in the middle of the night if you feel too alone”.
I take a deep breath as tears fill my eyes. She is not discussing a simple loneliness, but a dark, heavy loneliness. The one which often drives some of my most stupid decisions, attempts. I wonder if she was put off by the nights I’ve secluded myself, the reduction in conversation, or an emotion in my eyes I allowed to slip through the micro-moments.
I have daily passive suicidal ideations, and for once would be alone, without the fear which has held me back most. I catch my breath recognizing, while I am overwhelmed by the stress of all I need to do simultaneously, the what ifs of them not occurring on time, while my mother is overwhelmed by the what ifs of my loneliness – physically, emotionally, romantically. Wondering if switching to the brief one hour drive from a one minute sprint up the stairs is too long to keep me here.