- I separated from my ex -husband, who will be soon, and I separated from it, and adapting to an empty house.
- When my son is not with me, silence at home is almost unbearable.
- I learn to deal with the silence and the unit that comes with it.
No one warns you of silence. The type that leaks to the spaces you did not expect – between the sofa pillows, in games scattered on the ground, in a cup of wine that you poured because I felt something you must do. The person who is still present the next morning, which is meaningless and does not touch it – a calm reminder that you do not even know what you want, and what you need.
He is there because your 3 -year -old child in his father is still a half -empty juice sitting on the table as he will return. But it is not just the absence of noise – it’s unbearable weight. A kind of torture that is unavoidable and invisible that makes you hear things that you prefer to ignore – doubts, regret and painful pain in the question of who you are now.
I did not know what to expect when I separated and I was the former
When I am soon A former husband and I separated In June last year, I was expecting the challenges, of course, but nothing brought me up to the deaf calm of a half -empty house. Initially, I tried to avoid it. I had plans on nights that I had no air, surrounding myself with friends who adhered to wandering – people who did not emit when my life became messy. Others? Not only did they disappear – they turned the painful realist into a high school drama, and the collection of their copy of my situation without ever asking me. Their absence was its own weight.
When no one was present, probably busy with his wives or their least pressure life, I will ask my best friend, who lives in Main, for the recommendations of the bright offer. Whether it is Yellowjackets Or a Real crime documentary movieI can lose the misery of someone else because I was too much.
When he is with his father, his purposes become a source of rest and a sharp reminder of his absence. I say the names of his monster trucks loudly and I arrange – Boneshaker, Mega Wrex, Gravedigger, El Toro Loco, Tiger Shark – hearing the sound of Joey in my mind, and the way each one announces with wild enthusiasm.
I picked up his head Batman, who was reducing with whom he knew, and throw him into the washing until he was clean when he returned. I was thrown from the game, broke the Magna Tiles Castle that he built for me, fold his underwear in Pao, and made his bed. But these tasks – not in household chores. They are how to stick to it when it is not here.
It is difficult to deal with silence, but it becomes easier
Sometimes, silence looks like my worst enemy. I barely run the dishwasher a few panels inside, just to fill calm. I Is the washing?Not because it accumulates, but because the sound provides strange comfort. Or, write – pour pain on the page because it looks like the only productive thing I can do. Unfortunately, I write about the options that prompted me here, about feeling lonely and its many forms. But I am also writing about hope – for Joy, for myself.
In treatment, I once admitted that I didn’t know what to do myself when I was alone. “No one has taught you how to be sad,” said Megan’s therapist. It was right. My life was full of deviations, and solutions to sadness instead of space. If you feel pain, fled. If the discomfort infiltrates, I will find a way to replace it. But now, avoiding is not an option. I know that I should learn to sit with my sadness – not as an enemy of defeat, but as a fact to accept it.
I seem to be close.
One night recently, I was alone in the kitchen when the “dreams” of Fleetwood Mac appeared, and before I knew that, I was dealing with that. I woven into circles, outstretched weapons, axis, “but listen carefully to the voice of your unit … in the stillness of remembering what you have … and what you lost …” And there you were – singing, swaying, smiling – in. My own space. A space I can fill with everything I wanted against hell. I was not afraid.
Silence is not suffocation as it was. It looks different now – less like an empty vacuum and more like a new area, you know slowly to fill it with my voice – a voice that I finally listen to – without anyone telling me that he is very exciting and very needy, very much,. And in this calm, not only discover How to be aloneBut how to be I. Perhaps, for the first time in my life, I began to understand who is really.
