How big is your boat?

Today in therapy we were talking about loneliness...

And I kept coming back to feeling like I was adrift....

So we went with it and my therapist asked me to describe what I meant.

Out flowed a way more detailed image than I knew was inside of my head.

I'm not in a boat... I'm in an emergency raft.  There's no propulsion, but I won't get swamped.  There's no luxury food or anything really fun.

But I'll survive.

"Are you alone in your raft?" asked the doc.

I am... but other boats do keep passing by.  Sometimes you're riding the same wave; sometimes the waves push you apart.

It's like even when riding the same wave, I keep all of my stuff neatly organized inside my own raft.  Others see my raft and acknowledge its/my presence, but have no clue what goes on inside.

"Is everyone in a raft?" she inquired.

I imagine that people are on different types of boats.  Some share their boat with someone else, a partner, a lover, a family, etc.  Some are on big boats with propulsion while others still  drift in the currents like I seem to.

"Well do you ever try to call out for help?"

And then I realized that I'm scared I'll swamp someone else's boat.

It's like I can't tell how big someone's boat is.  It's like I'm scared to send up emergency flares because someone else in a raft might hurt/injury themselves trying to help or they're get there and I'll swamp their raft/boat with all of my crap....

So I sit in my raft making superficial connections when the waves push me against someone else... but I keep drifting off just me, alone, in my raft.

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It was pretty intense how quickly I unpacked this whole elaborate analogy of my life.