Hello and welcome. I am a 47 year old single mum of 3 kids, one now a teen, one on the cusp and one a tween. I live in the North of England although I am from the South. How I ended up here is a tale in itself. It was sold to me as a fresh start, a new life, a chance to be happy. Funny how life turns out.
When I lived in London (as I did for 10 years) I felt lonely. Life threw lots of curveballs at me – very sick mum (ovarian cancer for 5.5 years), babies, giving up work, (ex) husband becoming seriously ill on our wedding day (postponed – rescheduled for 8 weeks later, mum died two weeks before – death, funeral, wedding – that messed with my head time has made me realise). But in London one expects to feel lonely I think – it’s that kind of place.
So the move was an opportunity for leaving the past and starting anew. But three years of trying to salvage an already dead marriage, I have now been on my own for seven years.
During this time, there has been much contemplation, thinking about what I could have done differently, trying to keep all the balls in the air and not lose my mind – which I have done more than once. My life is here, purely I feel, to bring up my lovely children. When they leave to embark on their own path (as they must) I have no idea what I will do or where I will go. The World is my oyster, as is said, but all I really want is to feel safe and loved.
Don’t get me wrong, I have made some good friends but my crazed mind often says ‘which of these people will you actually stay in touch with once you go somewhere else?’ and I feel let down and forgotten a lot of the time. Life is busy in this age – people are rushing here and there, forgetting to be kind and support those on their doorstep. I hear often about friends wanting to ‘do good’ for others, which is quite rightly commendable, but I do wonder sometimes why they don’t want to ‘do good’ for me, their friend, who struggles most days to even get out of bed.
This blog is a way of me talking in the hope that I can appease some of the loneliness I feel daily and get stuff out of my head. I have no expectations (of anything or anyone anymore) that it will bring me what I desire but I do think it will be my friend. What I write may sometimes be ramblings, what I write may sometimes be sensible. But I feel I must write, get things out, find some clarity.
There are many many lonely people in the World today and many many people much much worse off than me. I feel blessed, I have trained myself to be thankful and positive. I am a kind person, if I can help I will. But I know my limits and it’s been a battle to learn those limits. Friends have walked away from me – they don’t know how to deal with someone who has mental health problems. They don’t know that sometimes all I need is some help, to get some shopping, to sit with me in the evening, to bring a takeaway and watch a film, to make me understand they care. In the Winter months I hibernate. A year ago I was very unwell, I hid daily from the World, I did what I had to to keep life ticking along: worked hard, looked after the kids, got up. But I was actually feeling utterly alone, wretched, self-hating. A year on, I love myself again, I look after myself a little better, I hardly drink. But I am still lonely and feel alone most of the time.
If I sound self-pitying, that is not where this is coming from. As one friend says ‘you are the least needy person i know’. I do not moan or wail ‘poor me!’ or ask for much. I try and live each day positively, be kind, smile, think of others. But I do wonder how I ended up here …