Lost inside

  I was feeling feeling extremely angry and confused by Fernanda'a actions as I began my morning walk in the park in the early morning. I recognized from a distance two women coming towards me as Betty and her friend, whom I recognized but whose name I don't know. She always acknowledged me with a greeting that came out as, "ga mawnig".

I wanted to both scream a and hide from everyone.

As they neared me, I looked over at them, feeling that I shouldn't simply ignore them, despite my mood, but they did not seem to see me. It was quite strange. There are times, though irregular, when I feel so bad about myself that I wonder if everyone can see inside of me. In this instance, I seemed to have been partly right. but appeared to have been seen through.

I continued my walk, hoping that the exercise, scenery and fresh air might help to alter my pained mood for the better. I started to think about my mother, and how she often seemed to look at both familiar faces and complete strangers as if she were not there looking at them. She would stare at them until one of them would look back at her as if to say, “what the hell are you looking at?!” 

I wondered what it must have been like for me as an infant, looking up at this person who must have been looking at others rather than me. I imagined that when her gaze did turn to my direction, that it might be somewhat bewildering. What I had really needed were her assurances.
Although I've thought and talked about this subject quite a bit, I now have a conviction that what I was experiencing at that moment the very kind of hopelessness that I had felt when my mother was not able to show me that I existed. Although Fernanda is my wife and not mother, she provides a powerful anchor which helps me to feel visible and alive. When I feel distant from her, I want to escape, but find that there is nowhere to go.