I learned something about myself today, something new. I never had this issue before and now I do, and I didn't realize it until tonight.
I'm afraid of being alone.
Now that I've said it out loud and made it real, it makes complete sense and I'm not surprised in the slightest. Honestly, I'm more concerned with the fact that I didn't realize this change in self had happened sooner and that I haven't done anything at all to address it.
When did it start then, smarty pants? Easy. This definitely started after the birth of my first kid. Depression kicked in hard and fast. I struggled for months with being alone with my baby. If my husband needed to leave or was going to be gone for a few days - I always made sure someone else was available to come be with me, to have backup. It was survival and fear and it guided most of my decisions during that time. I didn't trust myself to be a good mom and I wanted to make sure that someone was there to pick up my slack. I never needed them there for her. I needed them there for me.
I suppose at some point I got used to this idea that I was incapable of being by myself. Having someone else there, while necessary at the time, slowly gave way to me not remembering how to be alone.
Now I find that what was once such a huge part of my existence is not only difficult for me, but causes anxiety and negatively impacts my marriage.
So I'm writing this tonight - as soon as possible - because I don't want it to linger in my head. I don't want to give myself shit because I figured out something new that I'm bad at, I just want to address it.
There's a serious lack of passion around things I used to find joy in that has lingered since having a kid. Maybe that's just a normal part of becoming a mom, maybe the depression just forced that energy into other parts of my person, maybe I don't know what the fuck I'm talking about.
Being alone now means facing my lack of passion.
I don't know what to do with myself.
I think constantly of all the things I WANT to do: read books, write more, get back into journaling, plan vacations, work out, plan meals I'm actually excited to make... I don't DO any of it. I distract myself with you. YOU reading this. I social media my self criticism into a finely packed bottle somewhere inside my chest that only fizzes over when I'm BY MYSELF.
How do you get your passion back? How do you find new hobbies or friendships that you're genuinely interested in? How do I learn to put my time into things that matter to me if I don't know what those things are anymore?
I'm a good mom. I'm a great mom even on many days.
But it seems I might not be so good at being myself anymore.