The mornings are the worst

The morning and evenings are the worst moments. And maybe the mornings even worse than the evenings because at night at least I can let go, indulge my pain, allow myself to feel it, cry even, unwind, lean into the loving/supportive company of friends, and eventually go to sleep. But in the mornings, I wake up feeling the loneliness and pain all over — the past couple of mornings I’ve felt like it’s been the pain actually waking me up. And with the pain, the sadness, the loneliness, there’s an anxiety that I know well from the past: a type of anxiety I feel from a sense of abandonment. Whether it’s “real” or “only perceived”, it’s there, real for me: anxiety from a sense of having been abandoned. Which I know rationally is not what is really happening in this particular situation with my special genderqueer European friend. But while the head knows, the hearts feels, and this sense of loss and sadness and loneliness is very real and concrete for me now. 

And again, all I can do is get myself through my day focusing on what I can get done, on what I can achieve, on what is within my reach: work and exercise. Until another evening in which I may let myself cry, and another morning leading to another day of work and exercise and socialization, until the pain will eventually subside…