Lone wolf

So it turns out that shuffling your life upside down and inside out, can make you a bit reflective and reticent. At almost 64, I’m discovering there’s only one person that really loved me in my life, my mom. She’s been gone for 37 years. And I now know I’ve struggled to find love for all those years. I know, it sounds pitiful. I’ve searched in the form of a narcissistic husband who, truly did love me the best he could but in the end, left me more depleted.

I love my kids and I see they really are the culmination of their breeding and upbringing, as dysfunctional as it was. I tried to love them but was crippled by all the warpedness (is that a word?) of his issues and mine. One child can compartmentilize like no other, one checks out, the next is just angry. As you talk to your kids as adults, you find their impression of their childhood isn’t how you thought you orchestrated it.

So I’ve failed. I think we all fail to some degree. I raised my kids, now adults, before social media. I had no expectations like social media now puts on people. Did my my mom think she failed? Did she even worry about it? She was putting one foot in front of the other, I think. A little like I do or did, not worrying about the BS today’s parents do.

The moral of the story is at almost 64 yrs old I am not over my mom dying so long ago, I never regained the feeling of any love after that and I’m depleted. This all sounds pathetic and I don’t mean it to. Its just part of the process of getting to know myself. As my “new” life unfolds and develops, I’m finding I need to only depend on myself because in the end, that’s all we can count on. I wanted to be a part of a pack but maybe a lone wolf is where it’s at.