Readjusting to Alone Time

           Every morning for the past two months, I come home, after dropping both girls off at school, and make myself a pumpkin spice chai tea latte. As I sit drinking my chai, I take note of what has to be done around the house that day, which errands need to be run, and how much laundry I have gathered in my laundry basket.  On the days my mom is home, I call her and we converse for 45 minutes or so before I get my day started. When I hang up the phone is when my anxiety sets in.

            I haven’t had time without a child by my side for four years. Therefore, it is a bit disconcerting to walk into an empty house with four hours of quiet ahead of me. I admit that in the past all I have wanted is time to myself. An hour of quiet to sit and read or to leisurely browse the plethora of magazines that come in the mail seemed like an unattainable dream, one that I have longed for for the past four years. However, now that I have the time, I find myself wracked with anxiety because I feel lost and alone.

            I remember feeling this way when Lucy first started preschool at the age of 3. I was petrified to leave my house should an emergency arise at her school. I found myself pacing the floors waiting for the phone to ring to deliver some disastrous news. It took me forcing myself out of the house and a whole lot of talking myself off of a ledge until I became comfortable with the thought of being alone.  Once I became comfortable, I was able to relax and enjoy the time I spent with myself. I came to terms with the fact that some days I was extremely productive and others I did nothing but care for myself.       

            But then we got Lily, and everything once again changed. I not only had a new baby and limited time to myself, but then she was diagnosed with diabetes and time to myself became almost non-existent because she requires 24 hour care from someone trained to take care of her, that person being either my husband or I, with a little help from my parents when we lived in Vermont.

            Today we live thousands of miles from friends and family. The lack of support has taken its toll on my mental health. It has made me more vulnerable to anxiety. Lily’s physical health is a constant state of worry, and even though I have taught her teachers the basics, they aren’t trained to deal with every situation that may arise. Daily, I find myself making mental lists of all that could go wrong and sticking close to my phone in the event that I should have to run out the door at a moments notice. I have to talk myself of ledges regularly and remind myself that keeping busy and taking care of myself are the keys to reducing anxiety.

            Therefore, I am sitting here doing something I love, writing; a task that also tends to ease my anxiety. I will probably browse Facebook for a bit after posting this, and then make a list of all those household tasks that are still incomplete. Hopefully, I can keep myself busy enough to keep myself sane.