Holding Pattern

I'm a little sad and frankly a little selfish. I miss writing for myself and about my ridiculous self.

I have started therapy so I can figure just why it is I am the Queen of Failed Relationships. I often joke that I have a closet full of rattling skeletons, scraping their way out of the dark recesses of my past life. My therapist told me at my last appointment that my life is in a holding pattern, that I am in the middle of a bridge and trying to decide whether to return to the beginning or venture in the other direction.

What put me in the middle of this metaphorical bridge? Well, that is what I am trying to find out. It seems my sometimes desperate loneliness is a result of abandonment issues. Now I have the fun task of dredging up long ago memories of times when I felt alone and abandoned by those who should have comforted me and made me feel safe. While I am revisiting those times in my life, I don't feel like it is a blame game, simply a means for me to determine why I still can feel all alone in a crowded room full of people who love me.

All of this has translated to me living in an apartment with my boys and trying to figure out what to do next. I miss my dog and I'm scared to spend my 40th birthday and the holidays alone. I would never suggest that Robert is a bad person, jerk or someone I dislike. In fact, I am struggling with quite the opposite. When I am upset or not feeling well, he is immediate in checking in on me. If I have trouble with my car or the apartment, he never pauses to decide whether to help. Yet when I spend more than a few minutes around him, I am reminded of why I am in an apartment without my beloved Charlie.

For a person to be scared to be alone, it seems to be my destiny. It's ironic that I am the person at the paper who writes engagement, wedding and anniversary announcements. I frequently get a little misty when I write about a couple who has weathered the rougher storms of life together. I already know there is no way I will be one who celebrates a golden anniversary.

So here I stand in the middle of my bridge and still looking back over one shoulder and getting glances of the road ahead as well. I know I will soon have to decide which direction to take, I just hope it is the right direction.