Well this is a thread and a subject I really wanted to see created. Thanks very much for doing this.
I am in my mid 60s in fact, slightly more than."50+", ha ha. I have no kids or family, and I'm going through a divorce from a much older man who has grown kids, my age and younger. It turns out that I don't seem to be going through a divorce with him, but with the kids, who are managing everything for him and paying for lawyers that he and I had agreed not to get.
Friends that I've had for almost 50 years drifted away in the last 10 or 15 years, or more maybe, involved more in their own families and worlds, and scattered across the country. I'm at a point where I keep in touch with only two friends, and I'm feeling very alone in the universe. About the only thing that stops me from CTB are my two small dogs who I love dearly, and who love me. I don't see much of a future for myself ageing alone. But I am unsteadily looking forward to moving away next month to a peaceful place where I know no one, and my soon to be ex-husband's kids cannot harass me.
It's hard to live without supports and without any vision of a better future. I find myself very much focussing on the moment, and just today, or just this morning. I'm glad I have the freedom to just go back to bed if things are feeling too hopeless. Also what helps a very tiny bit is that I now have all kinds of time for the solitary pursuits that I've always loved – reading, artwork, music. Peaceful things. When I was with my husband, all my time seemed to be doing things around the house or the yard, or taking care of him. I'm not going to miss that. But I miss the companionship very much. Back to being lonely, as I was before,I knew him.
Other people in their 50s and 60s, my kind of "peer group" as I view them, seem to have families, children, parents, neighbours – some kind of small community around them. But maybe I am idealizing that and assuming too much. Maybe other people are just like me, finding they have lost so much and now are surrounded by an emptiness in which there is only their own voice.
I try to think of positive things to pull me forward, and sometimes I can do that in small bits. But always, underneath, there is Plan B. And it beckons, and promises to solve everything. I am tired. So tired of trying to make things work in my life, or even just to have something to look forward to in the day.
Outside it is snowing, big flakes coming down. I am staying at someone's cottage until I can move away next month. There is a fire in the woodstove beside me and my dogs are cuddled on my lap.
If I had said that three years ago, I would have been over the moon happy. What a privilege! What a lovely way to spend the morning. But no, when my heart and my spirit have been so torn apart by these hurtful people and I have no one, it seems very hard to enjoy the small things, even though I can recognize that they're there. The icewater that has been poured into my soul makes it impossible, it seems, to connect.