Solitude or Isolation?

     When my father died, I was ten years of age and my siblings and I lived under some rather odd circumstances. My mom was, in addition to being grief stricken, also an alcoholic, and I felt during that part of my upbringing a kind of terror that cuts deep pathways into the brain. It is the kind of terror that only solitude and isolation can create, and usually only in a child.  It is the feeling that there is no one around you that can help you, or understand your situation.  That feeling of terror lasted into my adulthood, when it certainly was no longer useful, if indeed it ever had been.

     Over time I learned to deal with solitude, to make sure it never became isolation (at least the self-imposed kind), and was in a much better place in that respect when I met Susan.  Then, for over two decades, not a moment went by that I felt alone in any way. Now, of course, she is gone. And while I certainly do not feel anything like the childhood terror I felt at age 10, there are many aspects of this involuntary solitude that are very difficult.

     Aside from the constant companionship we experienced, our partnership was such that I aspired to be the very best person I could be, and so did she. In addition to that, I experienced a great deal of positive reinforcement from her as my partner. That in turn simply made me want to be better and better.  And that of course, led to the unshakeable notion that I was a useful person. Useful to her, to the kids, to my clients and so on. Much of that vanished when Susan died. I can tell myself until I am blue in the face that I am useful to someone, but it is not the same. I can tell myself I’ve done a good job on some project or other, but it has little or no meaning, certainly not like it had come from her.

     On any given day, it occurs to me somewhat frequently that I am really and truly alone.  I am the only member of my family of origin still alive, and I have lost my partner, spouse, love of my life.  On the one hand, some of the terror I felt as a young child seeps through into my consciousness from time to time, causing me to have a great deal of difficulty seeing any good reason to go on.  On the other hand, I keep thinking (really as hard as I can) that the rest of my life is mine to make the best (or worst of).  I just wish there was an easier way to understand exactly how to proceed to do that.

MPC 04-13-2016