One thing about this current life of mine is that I've somewhat lost the ability to open myself up to others. I have the most wonderful close group of friends, who perhaps I am sometimes too open with, bless them for listening to some of the dribble I've shared during the past few years. I also have a wider circle, they know certain parts of me, but not all of me. I'm not afraid to say I hide my darker parts, those unreliable parts, from people I don't know too well.
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I sometimes wonder if I'll ever be able to wholly open myself to someone again. Just the one person. A special person. You know what I mean.
And when I retreat to those dark corners wondering if that person will ever come along, it hits me that the only person I need to open myself up to is myself.
I need to start being honest with myself, treating myself as I would like to be treated. And here it is, I have to start being kind to myself.
And being kind does not mean filling the void with things just to fill a hole. Being kind involves being gentle with myself, allowing myself time just to be, to savour in a nice meal, to take a bath, to phone a friend, to do a crossword puzzle, read a book, to sleep better, to stay sober.
There are too many days when the children aren't with me that are lost, blurred by too many outings and glasses of wine and too much reality television, filled with too much stuff in the hope it will all fill that hole in my heart.
Some of my friends say they envy this life. Going out, eating meals I enjoy, not having to do school runs and washing and pick up after everybody. But it's empty. An emptiness I can't explain. If you're living a current life, you'll understand it too. Two years down the track and the novelty has well and truly worn off. For the first time in months the other night I found myself crying into my pillow because I felt so alone.
But being alone doesn't mean feeling lonely. I want to learn to enjoy my own company. Without blowing my own trumpet, I think I'm pretty good company. I enjoy a chat, I'm happy to listen to your dribble with an open mind, I like a laugh, and I have a wide variety of interests. Hey I'd date me if I could. Ha!!
So why don't I do that? Spend a week, an off week, dating myself. Sure I might go out for dinner one night, another night I might schlep on the couch and watch a game of football, run a bath and read, cook myself a spectacular two course meal, go for long walks.
I guess it comes down to convincing myself that my life is actually pretty good. That I don't need to supplement it with an over excess of activities.
I have a fabulous family, friends who have my back, work colleagues who make me laugh everyday, a home that makes me feel safe.
I just need to start being kind to myself.
So here's a few things I plan to do. Random acts of kindness for myself.
Walk every day. Even if I'm not pumping out the kms. Just get outside. Look up at the sky. Find places I've never been. There are so many pockets of Canberra yet to discover. Get in one really long walk. Walk the dog. Poor thing. Be kinder to the dog.
Plan better meals. Better as in healthier. Better as in challenge myself to cook again. It's too easy when you're on your own to rely on eggs and the contents of the fridge. And while I love a challenge like that too, I miss following a new recipe. And set the table. Maybe light a candle. Have some music playing. Like Date Night. And plan too. Save money by taking in leftovers for lunch. Think of more clever ways to reinvent leftovers.
Get to bed by nine and read for an hour. If not every night. At least every week night. It's too easy to waste the night and then find out your brain is still not switched off at 1am. Or it is for me anyway. Make going to bed something of a ritual again. Not the last place I want to be because it is a stark reminder of my status. Find comfort in a bed that is now my own. Like I do in my home.
And start taking better care of that home. I actually have an urge to nest again. It's spring. I need to start cleaning out some clutter, literally and figuratively. I have a garden to tend to, jobs to do, fix leaking taps, paint some walls, fix some shelves. I am capable of doing all these things, and knowing that brings me great pride in myself. Just get around to bloody doing it.
And there's the clincher. I say this all the time. But the only person I need to be honest with, the only person I can't let down, is me. (Well, and a few of those close friends, and the kids.) I've let too many people down, but I've let a lot of them go too. I know what needs to be done to lead a better, kinder, life. I just have to do it.
