There comes a time in every day where my mind starts to go. My hold on sanity and on my emotions starts to waver, falter, and finally fail.
If you’ve had kids, you know that hour. The hour when babies are at their crankiest. The hour when it feels like everything is a struggle. The hour when nothing. goes. right.
For me, that point comes at a different time each day. Some days are really good, and I make it until 7 or 8pm.
Some days are really bad and it starts 5 minutes after I get up.
The average though, is late afternoon. Around dinner time.
The time when everyone goes home. When no one is available to come over, not really. They all have their own lives, their own spouses, their own routines.
The time of day when it was us, our family.
And that’s when things begin to spiral out of control, for me.
That’s when the anxiety hits, when the sadness hits, when I want to yell and scream and rant and rave… instead I blog.
But its the point where I am reminded most of what’s missing in our lives. The point where Mark’s absence is most noticed. He was so THERE in the evenings… and now he’s not.
Someone said to me that I should, in the future, be looking for a long term, moving in with me, living with me, marrying type relationship… I said.. “Why?”
Why would I want that? I had that. I’ve never, in my 38 years, been without a partner or roommate. I’ve never lived on my own. It’s time to learn how to.
I don’t want *someone* to come home to, I want Mark at home. Anyone else, at this point, would just feel like a Mark substitute. A poor one at that. I want Mark.
He’s not coming back – so rather than looking for what I had… I’m going to learn to enjoy and want what I have.
Widowhood put me on a path of self-discovery that I never anticipated. I am not who I was, and I’m not sure exactly who I am. What I know is I’d like to learn to enjoy my own company.
And I’d really like to make it through an evening alone without the anxiety and panick attacks.