Not a creature was stirring, and it was absolute bliss.
Any of your grow up and realize “Oh, wow, I’ve never actually ever been alone. Ever.”? Yeah, me too.
Once I had kids, and I learned what it truly meant to never be alone, and to always be on call, I started to fantasize about what being alone would be like. I tried to pull from memories, but I quickly realized that I had never actually ever been alone. My whole life has been spent living with other people. The first 18 years I lived with and around my huge, messed up family. Then off to college, with roommate after roommate. Then, during the roommate phase of my blossoming adulthood, I met my now husband and “lived with him” (aka, crashed at his place every night) for a few years before we got married and…. moved in together officially.
All the college living situations, and even early marriage, was alright though. It was way more freedom than I had growing up, so it never really felt heavy on me. I was glad to live with people who were nice and enjoyed the same types of things I did. I never considered my alone time, because I could just go out and have it, or retreat into my “office,” whenever I wanted. It wasn’t really until I had kids that I became overwhelmed with un-aloneness. (It’s a word now, deal with it.)
For those of you who have kids, I’m sure you understand exactly what I mean. I don’t have to write anything else. You’re most likely nodding along behind your screen in solemn understanding. I see you out there. For those of you who do not have kids, imagine it’s like having the most cringe friend you know attached to your hip night and day. Not only are they constantly talking about things you have no interest in, but they also just sneezed on you, and spilled your coffee. Wait, now they ate half of your breakfast, then told you how gross it was, and that your other friend makes better breakfast.
Imagine this for years and years. You have another friend in your house that takes some of the load off here and there. Maybe your cringe-friend sidekick can switch to the other persons hip for a second. You can breath a little better, move around quicker, but you can definitely still hear them talking, and absolutely still cater to their needs, even when they are with someone else. You wonder why you do that, and come to the conclusion that you do it because they are mostly your friend. Afterall, you spend the most time with them. You were their friend first. It should be your responsibility. You’re just grateful that your good friend who lives with you would take on the burden for a bit so you can do a few things by yourself without having to answer questions like “can I have some chips?” “Do monkeys live in the ocean?” “How many years were you in school, and which year was your favorite, and why?” while you are pooping, or washing dishes, or folding laundry.
But you see, even when your cringe-friend is occupied, you are still never alone. You will never be alone as long as they live in your house (and I’ve heard rumor from the old-lings, that it doesn’t even end when they leave), because even when they are not right beside you, your thoughts are always on when they will be back, and when they do come back, what will they need from you? What can you do while they are away for a few minutes that will benefit them in the long run. Whether that’s making them lunch, washing their favorite stuffed animal, or vacuuming their room so they don’t get sneezy. You can never be alone because they live inside your head. Even when you’re on vacation (and let’s face it, you haven’t had a proper vacation in ten years) you are still considering them in everything you do. “Oh, they’d love this candy.” “I wonder how they slept last night?” “They start school in two weeks, I need to make sure they have some new shorts. Their lunchbox was looking rough at the end of last year too, better get one that zips up all the way. I can’t remember where I put the teacher list, but I know there were at least 15 supplies needed per kid. Wonder if it’s cheaper to get it on Amazon or Wal-Mart? I’ll have to compare when we get home….”
Meanwhile, my friend who lives with me, and who will play and distract the cringe-friend for me, is thinking about exactly what is happening in the moment and nothing else. He has the ability to be alone physically for work, with friends, on vacation, during sleep. Even when he’s with the cringe-friend, he’s not enveloped by them. I am in awe of this ability, and wonder why this burden of un-aloneness plagues my every moment. Why have I taken on the mental load of myself, my friend, and all of my cringe-friends? Why do any of us? Why does it seem like it’s still so engrained in us to not be able to share this burden equally? Why don’t our friends who live with us see how weighed down we are?
I’m lucky that I do have a friend who is willing to do whatever I ask to help share in this life, but if you caught what I just said, and I’m sure a lot of you did, I do tend to have to ask. Why? If I’m never alone, you’d think someone would actually look over at me and realize that I am carrying the majority of the load in this life. Can’t they see that my back is breaking? That my mind is so full it may explode? That my life has never been, and probably will never be just my own? Why do I cater to the needs of everyone, while feeling like I need to ask, beg, plead to be seen and helped?
Why do we mothers live like this? What is it about our world that still calls on mothers to carrying the mental load for everyone, even while things are improving with dads becoming more involved? I’ve read a few articles recently about Millennial men being better and more involved fathers and husbands, and I could not agree more. Compared to my grandfather and my dad, my husband is a fucking rock star, and I am very grateful for that. There is still such a wide, cavernous divide though. I feel both grateful for the support I get that the women before me didn’t, and also greedy for things to be better going forward.
I guess I just wish that I actually felt seen in this house full of people. How can it feel so lonely when I’m never actually alone?
If you are interested in things like this, take a look at these two comics I came across while googling this topic in a fit of insanity last week. The first one is a very simplified look at this issue, and the second is a more in-depth look.
