I have to get this down somewhere safe , hopefully no one will come on and berate me for being stupid or not letting my kids grow up.
The fact us both my kids are grown up and have moved away after getting first class masters degrees. They are independent and decent people, of course I'm biased. They don't live near us now.
Anyway, the youngest recently moved out and i was sort of getting used to it, then they were home at xmas for a while and I'm back to square one.
I guess my form of looking after them is feeding them and trying to make life easier in general. One ds is going through something and i can't help and its killing me. But i know i have to let him, basically, and i am doing that.
But what i really struggle with is the fact i get no satisfaction from doing anything for myself. I don't know why. It just doesn't mean as much as doing it for the kids. I'm not a martyr, i work, have friends, a good marriage, dh and i do lots together.
But why does it feel like the heart's gone out of me now they are gone?
I'm not depressed, I'm about to go a good walk, its a nice day here.
But its such a true saying, you're only as happy as your least happy child. Whatever age they are.