This is going to be a winge, be warned. Feel free not to read on but I need to vent, as they say. If my ramblings help anyone else not feel so alone in their aloneness then some good will have come of them.
I have been trying hard, I really have, to get on with this new life of mine but it is bloody hard. I've never been one for self-pity, always been a coper, but this widowhood thing really has got the better of me.
At the heart of it is fear, I guess. When the Golfer died, everything else stayed the same, it was just that he was no longer here. I still had the house, the same neighbours, friends, the same daily life - the temptation is to keep on doing the same stuff. Fear keeps me in my place. But I also know that the healthy thing would be to find new things to fill my life with. But I am too scared to take any big steps. Such quality of life as I have, I am terrified of losing altogether if I move house, or open my own business. Catch 22. Fear has me paralyzed and I am very angry about it - angry with myself for being so weak and angry with everyone else for letting me stand alone. There are one or two neighbours in particular I am making voodoo dolls of...
Left to myself, I would move away like a shot - away from this unhappy house, away from this mad part of the world - but my son wants me to stay. I am all he has and this is home and any time I mention moving he makes his feelings clear. I am standing still for other people when I want to be flying.
I am going round to cry on my best friend's shoulder tonight - boy, am I glad I have her - so I'm hoping I'll feel a bit better tomorrow. But I know it's just a sticking plaster. I'm not fixing any of the fundamentals and that's what I need to do.
Anyone got any ideas or advice?