Creativity Magazine

My Very Own Private Lunacy

Posted on the 04 February 2013 by Abstractartbylt @artbylt

I wake up and wonder, “What are my obligations today?”  Do I have to leave the house?  Is someone expecting a call or visit from me?


Whew! I made it to the hairdressers, a two-minute drive from my house, and managed to respond to conversations like a normal person and to get safely back to my car and home.

Whew!  I managed to walk my full garbage can all the way to the end of our little road to leave it for pick-up on Monday morning.  No neighbors intervened, but I wore my sunglasses for protection nonetheless.

A noise—the UPS man.  He likes to say, “Hi, Lynne,” when he drops off a package or picks up a painting for delivery.  He can say “Hi, Lynne” because my name is on the package, but I don’t know his name.  And I don’t ask.


Is my lunacy becoming an overwhelming force that will carry me too far to ever come back?

Or is all this still and simply that I haven’t yet gotten used to living alone?

My mind is a cavern and every thought echoes off the walls.

Ungrounded—that’s what I feel.  I don’t know how to be when being is just me.

It’s been over a year and a half since Adrian died.  How could I still be so unmoored by living alone?

There isn’t anyone else I want to live with.  I like being alone, and treasured the time I was able to do that when Adrian was alive.  Time alone was precious then.

Now it is making me crazy.


Yes.  All the uncertainty I felt at eighteen when I looked into a mirror and didn’t know who I was—it’s coming back.

Then I listen to a friend tell me of her nightmares and insecurities.  Are we all falling off the edge of the earth?

I’m a good listener, I’ve been told.  That’s because I know better than to give advice unless someone specifically asks for it.

Maybe I could listen to myself, become a kinder and gentler friend to me.

“It’s OK to still be rattled by living alone,” I would say to me.  “Do what makes you feel safe and comfortable.”

It’s OK to be a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Pamper her.


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