My boys have been gone to their father’s for a summer visit for two weeks now. For weeks leading up to their departure, for months really, I couldn’t wait. I felt trapped. I loathed their misbehaving and stubborn natures. I fought the tie to my home, my lack of freedom of movement and scheduling. I bore heavily the weight of care and well-being--all the responsibility.
In moments that I truly regret I told them to their faces that I couldn’t wait until they left--until I was alone. My younger son cried. And while I was ashamed the moment I said it, I wanted him to feel a pain similar to the strain that his incessant disobedience and unruly behavior was placing on me.
I apologized. They accepted. But maybe I’ve scarred them for life. Time will tell, and then I’ll have another mess to clean up.
Now they’re gone. And I’ve fallen apart.
Last summer I experienced this as well. It was the first time they had left and I didn’t have a significant other to fill the void. I could see clearly the depths of my codependency and separation anxiety. I’ve come a long way emotionally since then, and I thought I was prepared. I thought I was better.
Not so. I don’t sleep. I avoid my home at night. I stay out late so that I am exhausted, hoping that when I get home I will fall right to sleep. 3 a.m. 4 a.m. A schedule not conducive to early mornings and 50+ hour work weeks. I spend hours more at work then necessary. I spend hours at the gym at all hours of the night and day.
I have no purpose. I have no self.
How did this happen? How can I wish my life was so different, wish that I was alone and free just as I am now and when it happens, I am lost.