time enough at last

on retirement, loneliness, and fixing myself

Here’s what I imagined retirement to be for me just three years ago: I’d retire at 62 and live off my pension and my husband’s salary. He is ten years younger than me and intended to work at least another ten years. He told me I’d never have to worry about retirement, that we were set financially. So my imagination took me to the places we said we’d get to; London, Iceland, Amsterdam, the Grand Canyon, Seattle, so many trips back to his native California. Retirement would by idyllic, restorative, restful.

Now, I am retiring at 61 instead of 62 for health reasons. It’s just what had to be done. The husband is now an ex-husband and my dreams of spending the rest of my life traveling with him have been shattered. I am no longer set financially and frankly, I am terrified of the future. Retirement should be a blessing. It should be a happy occasion, one that comes with congratulations and maybe a small party and a bold new life of leisure time. Instead, I am fraught with worry about how I’m going to make it. That’s not the only thing that’s weighing on me, though.

I envisioned my retirement days to be filled with projects we took on around the house. I thought about all the days we’d go out to lunch or a movie, or for a stroll in a park. I thought about having my days to spend with him and my nights to do things on my own as he went to his AA meetings. I dreamed of building on our relationship, of having quality time together and growing old as a couple.

Now I don’t know what I’m going to do with my time. Sure, I’ll find thing to do. I have some projects set up for myself, I’ll go see my sister in Rhode Island more often, I’ll go visit my daughter in LA. But the day to day stuff, handing the loneliness, is going to be hard. I know because I’ve been doing it while on sick leave since June and it sucks. I thought after two and half years, the loneliness would be gone, replaced with the comfort of being by myself, being able to do anything I want to at any time. But it’s not. It’s here. I don’t miss him, exactly. I miss what we had. I miss the company. I miss having someone next to me on the couch, someone I could read a funny tweet to, someone to high five when the Islanders score, someone to talk to.

I keep the tv on all the time, as if the background noise is some kind of company. I sleep on the couch a lot because the bed feels too big sometimes. I Zoom with my sisters just to have someone to talk to besides myself. What am I going to do when I don’t have work to break up the loneliness?

In a way, I am retiring party for my mental health because continuing to go to work when I have all these health issues to deal with and having to take time off for appointments and procedures was really stressing me out. I feel like it’s not fair to my bosses or my coworkers who have to pick up my slack when I’m gone. There are other factors; I’m tired of driving to work every day. I’m tired of having to be out of the house every morning. I’m tired of feeling life my life is work interrupted by a few hours of sleep. I’ve been working since I’m 14. I’ve been in this particular office building since 1998. I am 61 years old. I’m just done. But in my attempt to take care of my mental health have I made things worse? Am I going to play out the rest of my life broke and lonely?

I’m scared. I am going to look for a part time job if I can’t land some writing gigs. Maybe something at the local library where I worked in the 90s. Something I would enjoy doing, and not feel like it was chore to get out of the door in the morning. That would alleviate some of the issues. I want to enjoy my retirement. I want to revel in it. I want to be glad I left this all behind, and feel like I am moving toward a new journey in life. And for the most part, I do feel that way. I just worry about being alone so much.

I know it’s up to me to make the days ahead fulfilling and happy. I know I have to get over my feelings of being lonely and try to establish some sort of relationship with myself where I feel comfortable being alone. I have all the time in the world to work on myself now, which will include finding a new therapist to help me through this. I have books to read and tv shows to binge and people to have lunch with. I have jigsaw puzzles to do and hockey games to watch and card night with my family. I just can’t help but want to have someone to share it all with. I don’t like being lonely. I don’t like that I put myself in a situation where I was codependent on someone enough that their absence left a huge, gaping hole in my life that threatens to ruin the one thing I’ve been looking forward to.

My vision for my retirement has changed drastically in the last two years. And now that the time is here, I’m afraid of the unknown. I’m scared. And I’m sure this is a natural way to be when facing a huge life change. I just have to settle in, buckle down, and remember that I can be my own best company.

Two weeks from today I will walk out of that building and never look back. That feels odd and daunting but also exhilarating. I’m going to do this. I’m going to make it. There’s no need to look back anymore, to cry about the things I don’t have. What I have now is time. Time to improve, time to reclaim, time to be myself with myself.

Here’s to the future, and the present, and a new life.