I’m sure most of you have experienced loneliness at some time in your life.
Sometimes I sit here longing for a human connection. My friends have their own lives, families, and activities. My kids are gone. I no longer have my students and co-workers to interact with throughout the day. In the past I would have had papers to correct or lesson plans to write. Children to drop off or pick up. Someone wanting to watch a movie and share popcorn.
I go on-line hoping to make a connection with someone, waiting to see who will comment or post. It feels desperate and pathetic.
Sean and I are in the same house but don’t connect the way we used to. Even when we are in the same room, many times he is somewhere else.
At times, he is getting better, trying more, and I’m the one pulling away. Not because I don’t want the attention, affection, or interaction, but because I’m so scared of the rejection that will come. I don’t want to let the feelings in because when this phase passes, and it always does, I will be devastated and feel even more alone.
Tonight he is in the basement again. It is his refuge and safe place. He has been working extremely hard on projects for the VFW and it is amazing to see him working on something he is passionate about again. It exhausts him. It takes all his time and energy to focus on the task in front of him. He has put off training on his bike this week. In fact, he hasn’t really ridden in the last two or three weeks due to schedule changes and another sinus infection. It illustrates for me what happens when we do not keep to his schedule, and how he is not able to divide his time effectively–it’s all or nothing toward one goal. Whatever he is focused on consumes him.
He will be on a hunting trip next week and while I’m looking forward to the break and possibly sleeping through the night, I know I will be anxious while he is away. I also know how much more I will feel alone.
It’s not that I don’t have projects to work on, things to do. It’s more that empty space inside of me feels amplified when he is not here. Partly residual from the numerous separations we have endured, and partly from being a caregiver and Sean being my “purpose.” When he isn’t here, I don’t quite know what to do with myself.
I know all about finding time for myself, and doing things I enjoy. I’m not trying to feel sorry for myself. I just needed to get it out tonight.