Alone, not lonely

Through fifteen years of split parenting and shared residence of the kids, I learned to be alone three days of the week.  The first years were the hardest.  I had to learn to give myself permission to feel more than sadness when they were with their father.  I had to learn that I could enjoy my time while they were gone without feeling guilty.  It was not easy.  When a divorce ended my romantic relationship, and a breakdown ended my ability to work, the prospect of three days completely alone was daunting.

I struggled with loneliness.  I threw myself into four part-time jobs to keep from having to be home alone, and to face the silence in the house.  I leaped into another doomed relationship, sold a house, bought a house, and got to the point of having a second breakdown with a suicide attempt.  It was an ugly time.

With time and help, I finally understood that I was making irrational decisions in my desperation not to be alone with myself.  I was afraid of the racing thoughts, the painful recollections of unhealthy actions in my past, and the utter stillness and silence that I found so suffocating.

I now cherish my time alone.  I can listen to the silence without racing to fill it with TV, or even radio.  I have tried hard to forgive myself for mistakes I have made, and to become a friend to myself.  I actually now get cranky if I don’t get some alone time each day.  Facing myself in the mirror, acknowledging what went wrong in the past, and forgiving myself for certain decisions seemed to be the key for me.

I can enjoy being alone without being lonely.