I have a therapy session tomorrow, so I’ve been in reflective mode, thinking about what I’d like to discuss.
This question keeps popping up – am I lonely?
I know I am not alone. I live with my children. I have great family and friends. I have AP.
My children are wonderful companions. I enjoy their company immensely. But life as a single parent is tough. Managing all their issues, emotions, moods, alone isn’t easy. And obviously I don’t talk to them about the stresses and strains I’m under.
My family are wonderfully supportive. But I don’t like offloading on them too much. They worry about me. I don’t want to cause them stress. So I don’t reach out to them as often as I should.
My friends are wonderful too. But as I’ve mentioned before, I’ve gone from having lots of friend and a very active social life to feeling comfortable with only two pals. The others were so interconnected with ‘us’, I couldn’t face them. Now I know my two pals have my back and love me. However, as with my family, I worry I ask too much of them. It’s being such a long slog this divorce (court still to come): I’m sick of it. I’m sure they must be too.
I thought AP was wonderful, now I’m not so certain. Events over the last few months and radical changes in our level of interactions have made me feel insecure and unsure. We aren’t operating at a level where I feel like we are a proper couple anymore. I can feel myself shutting down. The barriers are going back up. I am detaching.
When I see it, written down like that, maybe I am lonely?
What do I mean by lonely?
I suppose I associate the companionship of marriage with not being lonely.
Someone to share the mundane aspects of daily life with. To chat about the day. To say good morning and kiss you goodnight. To cuddle on the sofa and watch tv in blissful silence. To hold you whilst you slept soundly feeling protected. To laugh at the silly things the children said or did. To help come up with solutions to their woes. To help shoulder the responsibility of parenting. To hug you when you needed one. To tap you on the bottom and kiss you on the neck whilst you’re washing up. To call your name to check you’re ok if you’ve been out of the room too long. To message you, at random points of the day, sweet nothings or nonsense stuff that put a smile on your face and sent your heart fluttering. To make you laugh so much you can’t stop crying. To tell you about music they’d heard, books or newspaper articles they’d read, or crazy thoughts that had popped into their head. To debate politics and current events with. To get drunk with. To dance and sing badly out of tune with. To eat meals with. To go on dates. On holidays. Family parties. Parties. Hosting friends. The list is endless.
Oh God, I am lonely.
I need to get used to coping with being lonely.
Because it’s going to be a long time before I have that again.