Ever feel defeated by life?

Been struggling through post surgical depression for three weeks. Complicated by my therapy sessions and aggravated by my horrendous neighbors. With all of my family distracted by my cousin passing away recently and the closest geographically now away on holiday. Plus my closest friends now totally subsumed by parenthood. The last three weeks have felt terribly lonely. I don’t suffer much with loneliness these days, it used to be a chronic and powerful force in my life, years ago. I removed it and learnt to be comfortable with my own company. But with everything that’s happened in the last two years, my mobile restrictions and heavy medication after surgery have left me feeling broken and alone. 

I have developed a good friendship with my neighbor who has been a wonderful help and the only person to regularly check in to see hoe I’m doing and if I need anything. Without them I could well have ended up in hospital to get the support I required. 

I’ve tried not being angry at friends and family for abandoning me. They generally and genuinely have other priorities. Many are burnt out and distraught after my cousins horrific battle with cancer. Me with my porely timed endometrial cyst and oopherectomy simply don’t compare. And I’m not the type to continually demand that people keep their promises of help. That kind of thing I can do when feeling strong, when I don’t nessescerily need it. And others have offered help but life some distance away so asking them to pop over seems rediculous. Though one has been good with Skype calls to try keep me sane. But the sad thing is its not enough. 

Recently I was discussing in therapy and questioning my decision to remain without any significant other(s) it’s been needed for me to be able to focus on me and my recovery/metamorphosis. I barely sleep, spend a large amount of my time and energy on medical/health commitments and have for the last year begun (re)building my social life with artistic classes. So I really haven’t had the time to persue romantic entanglements. Which I’ve been absolutely fine with, until recently. Even when friends and family haven’t been so distracted, it would have been ideal to have someone or someones with whom I could confide and seek guidance. Someone who’s shoulder I am comfortable crying on, somebody happy to watch my favourite tv and cuddle up with in silence. Someone who would know instinctively what I needed at any particular moment and who wanted to give their time for me. That all sounds terribly selfish now I see it written out, and maybe the guilt and conflict of wanting all that is wrapping itself around the loads I’m already carrying and squeezing tight. Suffocating me, making it hard to breathe or move. Just what I need when home-bound by the operation.