The Long-Term Aftermath of Abuse

     Today, as I stare down the barrel of yet another ending relationship, I wonder if I will ever again be able to feel spiritually joined with another human being. The last time I can recall that feeling was with my abuser, and all of my other memories pale in comparison to that. The thought sickens me. Was I only able to feel that "connection" with M because he lied and acted so well, or was it something that came from me? More importantly, if it came from me, is that bit of my soul still alive? I haven't felt much from it in years. I can feel tenderness. I can feel love in some varieties, but the soul-merging passion that I crave has been lost to me. Some days I have hope that I will share that connection with someone again, but others I fear that "soul mates" doesn't actually exist, and any relationship I pursue will end in a rut of stagnation and misunderstanding.
   
     I'm terrified of being alone again, but the thought of zombie walking through a passionless relationship sounds worse than death. I want my body to awaken. I want my soul to awaken, but now, more than ever I am seeking complete isolation. Again, the fear of perpetual loneliness, of aloneness. I feel myself pulling away from my family and friends, preferring the four walls of my home to the constant scrutiny of others. I'm exhausted just by being out in a world where I feel constantly judged based on my looks, facial expression, gender, disabilities, perceived intelligence, and whatever the fuck else the general public feels like criticizing me over today. It just doesn't seem worth it to keep putting myself out there. At times, I feel ready to quit all my in-person jobs and complete the retreat, but I know I cannot. Not because I need the money as much as I need the people. I know I need you all, but I'm so exhausted just from existing that it's really hard to reach out sometimes.
   
      So, I hang on to my jobs knowing that at the very least, there will be human interaction in my life on a fairly regular basis and try to cling to hope that maybe, maybe some day, someone will speak to my soul again.