NestAche | Stories of Letting Go, Twenty Years of Therapy and Mid-Life (If I Live To Be 116)
Since my eighteen year old son left for college this year, I have been dealing with what others have called empty nest. I don’t find it a continuous feeling. It is more like a headache or a stomachache. It comes and goes. It’s NestAche. It’s brought on by a text or a phone call or the lack of a phone call. It comes from not having that kind of energy that only youth can bring into your home. It comes from the den just being too damn clean or finding some dirty sock under the pillows of the sofa. Pondering how I could cope with such a monstrous transition in my life was a bit daunting! Valium? Not a great option… a benzodiazepine addiction is something I would prefer to avoid. Long satisfying chats with my husband about the meaning of life and the complexity of intimate relationships?… highly unlikely… Hence the NestAche website and blog was born.
I have decided to write. I was challenged by a psychologist/friend of mine about six months ago to think about why I still was so passionate about what I do – about why I wasn’t burned out after all these years. It’s what I learn every day. It’s what I laugh about every day. It’s what I see people push through while seeking their courage and facing tremendous trauma and loss. I want to write about those experiences and some of my own. So sometimes I will have my therapist hat on - sometimes my personal hat on. I will try to make that clear. Hope you enjoy.