I hate being alone.
I don’t understand it.
I am an only child. So being alone or spending vast amounts of time by myself should not be anything traumatic, or of any consequence.
But I’m finding that it is.
I wonder why.
Last night I was with my cocker spaniel alone in my house. A severe thunderstorm raged just outside. The wind swirled around my house – lightening flashed, thunder rumbled.
There, 50-year-old me sat with the dog.
Afraid.
Oh, I wasn’t incapacitated, and I don’t mean to sound like Bette Davis. But a part of me was frightened. Of what, I don’t know.
In the not too distant past, I had a house full of activity – kids moving in every different direction, a wife who floated in and out of the house doing her church things, a dog, and a cat.
I didn’t give thunderstorms a second thought.
Now I do. I also pay attention to those things that go bump in the night.
It’s now just me and the dog.
But then, it’s only been five months since #1 left for El Salvador. So, I’ve only been truly alone for those few months.
I suppose it, like everything else, is going to take some time.
1 comment:
I think what you're feeling is pretty common. But I also feel some people feel this way even if they are NOT alone too. I think part of it is this need to be with others, we are very social. A couple things I do when I feel this way: do an activity with another person in mind, like write a letter to them or about them. It's odd but they will feel like they are there with you in a way. In alot of ways, people are always WITH us because of our memories of them. Reflect on nice thoughts like being in love with someone and listen to some music. You are always in control, so don't let these feelings get you down.
Post a Comment