I simultaneously love and hate this.
I love this new freedom and opportunity to rediscover myself. I love all the stupid little things like not having anyone comment if I don’t wash the dishes at night. I love knowing that this is all me. I can make this work and do it on my own.
I hate being alone sometimes. I’m naturally a homebody and tend towards the depressive. I really need someone to call me out when I fall into a funk and don’t leave the house for a few days. To remind me to take my medications. To soothe my fears.
A few hours ago I had a scare. I’m not sure if someone tried to break into my house or what, but it certainly sounded like it. I stood, frozen in fear, in my upstairs hallway not knowing what to do. Call the police? Call my mom (who can get here faster than the police)? Wait in the hall to be attacked? I wound up calling my mom who came by and checked it out with me and hugged me and told me it was okay. I feel marginally better. Not enough to not need Ativan tonight though. I really wished someone else had been here to protect me from the get-go. Not necessarily a man or my husband, but anyone. Another adult to help manage the situation and help with the kids had something actually gone wrong. I have nothing to protect myself with. No baseball bats or mace. All I had to carry like a club down the stairs was a wooden curtain rod I haven’t hung yet. It was pretty ridiculous.
I hate feeling inadequate. Feeling unsafe and insecure. Like a victim before I am one. I’m not sure how to overcome this yet. For now, tonight, I am sleeping with that damn curtain rod. Maybe I should get a dog.
lazyladylazarus
I could say something almost similar tonight. Creepy happenings, alone with kids, yup. I’ve got a baseball bat and a giant maglite underneath my bed (yes, to blind and bludgeon!). I’m glad to finally see update(s) from you – it’s been a while and I keep thinking about you.
Just sending some hugs. Have thought about you a lot throughout the summer. Let me know if there is anything I can do.