The Loneliness
I’ve done some rewriting, and added more to it this week. It is slow in coming. All feedback is appreciated as I am a novice!
The Loneliness
There were many things Carol had learned in her 49 years of life, one of which was that the thing she called The Loneliness was loud, almost too loud for her to bear each day. It usually started at dusk, when the sun set over the mountains. There always was that moment where it was picture perfect, and life seemed completely in balance…then the sun faded over the mountain tops and The Loneliness would start creeping in, almost silently at first but by late evening it sounded like a moaning woman lamenting in her sadness of whatever it was that pained her. There was nothing Carol could do. Each night it came. It didn’t matter if her house were full of guests or her family was scrambling around doing last minute tasks before bedtime. The Loneliness was always louder and permeated her body to her very soul. In fact, the Loneliness caused her each evening to become frozen, very much like a statue, sitting in the corner of her couch…watching, watching the others move about. Carol couldn’t move. The Loneliness won every night.
It was another typical night with The Loneliness creeping in causing Carol to shiver even though she wasn’t cold. She scrambled from her usual spot on the couch and made a half-hearted attempt to straighten her house before the noise became too loud. She often wondered if The Loneliness would ever change from a lamenting woman to sounds and words that she could understand. She wondered if then she could then determine maybe, possibly what The Loneliness wanted.
She was considered the peacemaker, the listener, the non judgmental person by those who knew her. If only they knew of her secrets and the sounds she listened to each night. Soon her husband would be asleep snoring, and her daughter in her room using social media to connect with friends. Carol could never decide which was worse—when everyone left so she couldn’t watch them; or having them nearby where she could see what they were doing. She had almost determined that having them around was safer, because they helped drown out the noise in her own head.
The loneliness wasn’t the only thing that haunted her each day. Although she considered the night the darkest of hours in her mind, each day was it’s own beast in it’s own right. Carol knew that part of The Loneliness fed off her work she considered a calling during the day. Everyday was different for Carol, and although she knew it was her calling in life-she considered it both a beautiful thing but also the food that fed the monster. But Carol loved what she did and shouldn’t one love your work, your calling?
And yes, there were other things. Carol wasn’t ready for those other things, even though they were mounting in the back of her mind like a tower of books ready to topple over at any given moment. Her past for example. She had felt like she had dealt with it before, “6 long years of counseling should have solved those issues, right?” was her mantra. Those 6 years did help quite a bit but never quite killed the monster that lived within her. Always, waiting, waiting, watching, ready to strike if neccessary to anyone who reached close to her carefully built walls that surrounded her.
Her newest and most encounter with the monster came from a recent client who reminded her of her childhood self. This client, a young girl, would often speak of a hooded figure that was right outside the window waiting to get inside. She said he would try to talk but she couldn’t understand what he was saying other that she should harm herself or he would. She would often harm herself to keep the hooded figure at bay. When Carol asked her what other secrets she was keeping besides “The Big One” the girl would shrug her shoulders and ask to leave therapy. But today was different.. The hooded figure was nearby causing the girl to dig her fingers deep into her skin making lines of blood that dripped from her legs. It was in this state that she said she had another secret to tell. Almost knowing what the girl would say, Carol leaned forward to listen to the girl’s quiet statement about the “people” that lived inside her head. She was afraid she said and had been for years, because they were uncontrollable…Carol could vividly relate to this because there was at least one in her own head. All Carol could do that particular day was ask for a drawing of how “her people” behaved and what their jobs were. When the girl left, Carol knew exactly what the girl was trying to show and say. She knew, because she could almost draw a picture the same way as the girl. The monster in Carol eagerly stared at the drawing, taking it all in. Carol knew that she needed to save the girl before she became a shadow of Carol. The girl needed to live and not just exist as Carol did every day. Carol knew what she had to do to save her, but it frightened her. She knew she would have to go into the abyss of her own mind to reach out and save the girl. She wasn’t sure she was ready. After all, the monster within her was still alive feeding off the picture, endlessly tormenting her and then handing it over to The Loneliness of the night.
Carol woke up the next morning after working 12 hours curled up in a ball on the living room couch feeling exhausted. Not physically; after all she had been asleep for a good 8 hours, but mentally feeling like she couldn’t put two coherent words together. She pushed with all of the strength in her and sluggishly started heading straight for the coffee machine to pull herself together. Although making coffee was a relatively easy task, that alone took much energy out of her, enough to want to go back to bed or wherever there was a pillow and a blanket. She forced herself to grab a coffee mug and make herself a cup of coffee and then headed to her usual spot outside with the dog whose life knew nothing but neglect until it came to permanently live with Carol. Carol knew that she should have the dog on a leash, but the dog seemed to instinctly know it’s limits within the cul de sac in which Carol lived. Carol started drinking her elixir as she personally called it and slowly came to life. It’s Friday she thought, but is it? She quickly went through as best as she could the events of the week and decided, yes, it’s Friday. “I made it,” she muttered to herself as she took the last sip of her elixir and called for the dog who came running to her side. Carol got up and moved back indoors to look at her calendar and see which clients she had for the day. Some were easy in her mind, they just needed someone to talk to while others needed preparation on Carol’s part so that they could have a good session and gain some kind of hope during the session. Carol also knew that by helping her clients she was giving herself a sliver of hope. A hope that one day she could look at her scarred body and not have The Loneliness come. She too realized the preparation for was herself—she was tired of feeling, feeling her own emotions, her family’s emotions, and her clients’ emotions. Carol considered herself a very good therapist but she knew if her secrets came out, her colleagues would consider her an “impaired therapist” and she would never work again in this profession. She knew it all too well, and kept her secrets hidden at an enormous price both mentally and emotionally. It has to be done she thought. My therapist told me herself. This in fact was true, just before Janet who was Carol’s former therapist told her, “You can work in this field and be very successful, Carol. But you can never, never share your secrets even if you feel like it would be helpful. Never share your story.” Carol worked endlessly at this, keeping her own secrets, keeping her clients’ secrets, and anyone else who had a secret to share. After all, this was her calling as her psychiatrist told her. “This is not a job!” he would often tell Carol. “This is a calling. You have been called to help others.”
The Housekeeper
The Housekeeper showed up two days later after Carol had seen the girl. Carol was never there when the housekeeper came, but recognized her presence only after she had left or was on her way out the door. The Housekeeper was not the best, but she managed to keep the home from becoming in total disarray. There would be neatly arranged piles of “stuff” for each family member to take to their room and put away, the dishes would be done, countertops would be wiped off, laundry would be done, and bathrooms cleaned. Carol marveled how she could do so much since Carol didn’t care about cleaning the house or any kind of upkeep. Carol’s children knew the housekeeper; they both had met her and disliked her very much. According to Carol’s children, the housekeeper could clean but was “not nice.” They would tell Carol that they hated her the most of anyone who came to the home because of her monotone voice and lack of any emotion. The housekeeper was considered to be an unwanted member of the household but a much needed one. Sometimes Carol would hear a “Dean will be home in 15 minutes you’d better hurry.” Then Carol would quickly return home, and the Housekeeper would be gone. Carol had ignored the warning before and her husband had met the Housekeep and disliked her immensely. Dean even questioned what the deal was with the Housekeeper, and all Carol could muster herself to say was, “she must have been in a bad mood.” Carol did not explain to her husband about the arrangement that had been made between the two of them. After all, the Housekeeper did do her job and kept the house together-something Carol wasn’t great at.
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