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My younger child, 23, left home five months ago, his year-old sister having left a couple of years before, and my sense of grief is intermittent but vicious. I have a busy life with a great circle of friends and an on-off boyfriend who lives elsewhere , but not a solid partner. I fully appreciate that my children are alive, independent and forging their own lives with work, friends and partners. I also make sure I have focus elsewhere, but I swing between feeling fine and busy, and really despairing.
I sometimes wonder what the point of life is without my beloved children. I think: is this it? I know if I put pressure on them, they will go in the opposite direction. Neediness can be repulsive. I barely gave my parents a thought at their age — I know this is normal.
It feels like a deep grief that I can manage with effort, but which then almost topples me. Just because those bonds are beautiful. I hope it helped to write it down like you did — writing is a good way to explore and express your feelings, and feelings such as these are better out than in.
You are adding to the sadness by torturing yourself with regrets. Those ruminations about their childhoods, your marriage and even how you were the same when you were their age regarding your own parents are feeding your sadness. Catch yourself when you start to play the regret game. Switch your focus to the positive memories and the good times you shared with your children. No parent is perfect. They have internalised your love and happily take it for granted.
