My husband has been out of the house for nearly two months. When everything first began, I traveled quite a bit – visiting old friends and sweeping myself off to places where I would feel inspired to explore and experience change. On a return trip back from a ladies weekend in Chicago, I got intense anxiety and a serious dread of not wanting to return home.
I was in a place where I never felt like myself. I had started a new job and did not want to reveal any details about my personal life. Things had shifted dramatically in our social circle and my husband had been primarily alienated as a result of his moral decision making as it related to his addiction. At home I felt like I could not just be. I needed my own space.
Last night was the first night since returning back to Colorado form holiday break with family that I came home to an empty house. I felt overwhelmed by nearly everything – the dishes in the sink, the cleaning of the fridge from food that I should have thrown before I left, the need to take my dog for a walk alone, and prepare dinner for myself. My husband had been at the house on and off over break and I realized how he hadn’t stayed here as though it was his home. Things were out of place and still seemed untouched.
This got me thinking to how no matter how disconnected or how fast things had been shifting at other points in our relationship, home was common ground. And now we didn’t feel like a team anymore. It felt like we were living separate lives, sometimes intersecting for evenings that never quite felt normal. Nothing is normal.
Tonight at my weekly dose of therapy we discussed loneliness. I feel it all around me. It is all consuming. Everywhere. I feel alone in my thoughts. Alone in my thinking. I need to learn to embrace this. The answers are not going to come from anyone except me. I desperately want to lean on people for support and for answers, but I hold those answers. I just need to dig deep enough to find them. I need to do the work.