I know how to move.   If you count all the small intra-city upgrades from apartments to larger ones and then to houses, I've done this 27 times since high school.    In the days when corporations paid for packing I learned how to pack a box of china from the pros.  

I've learned it's very helpful to keep a detailed list of what's in each box and to mark the outside with the name of the room it came from.   I'm good at this.  

Except this time....I did not realize the effect of putting it all in storage for at least 9 months.   Each day was an endless stream of decisions.  Which things go in the car with me?  What goes to a friend's to collect on my way to the lake in June? Which things go into storage and in what order? 
          
I spent everyday for weeks going at it by myself and it was an exhausting process.

And then the anxiety attacks started.  What's up with that?  I made this decision voluntarily - it's something I've talked about doing for years.   I've always been good at making up my mind to do something and then making it happen. Suddenly I was overwhelmed with scary thoughts.    

I finally started to realize what was going on in my head.  I'd never been to Emerald Isle.   It's on a tiny barrier island and my rental house is about 15 miles away from real civilization in either direction. The memory of that beautiful (but isolated) house in Nights in Rhodanthe  made me pause to wonder if I knew what I was doing.  For the first time since my divorce I was feeling very, very alone.    And it didn't feel good. 

I have enjoyed the sense of freedom and independence that being single provides.  Now it truly felt frightening and the resulting stress-related physical symptoms threatened to derail my whole plan. 

I'm sharing this experience because one topic I want to explore is how older singles cope with being alone. Unlike our younger selves, we have lived enough to know that there are consequences for poor decisions and that we'll have to suffer them on our own.

Granted, I have undertaken a huge challenge.   Some of you probably think I asked for the stress and heartache. And you might be right.  But I think it's all relative. A simple thing (for me) like walking into a room of strangers is just as scary to lot of people as my moving 300 miles away.    

Suddenly finding yourself alone in later years either through choice, divorce or death of a spouse/partner is the hardest thing most of us have faced. And I'm realizing that it only gets harder as we age. 

At 53 I felt at the top of my game - ready to enjoy all the benefits of grown children, financial security and independence.  At 63, it's looking and feeling a lot different. 

But we deal with what life hands us.  I found a quote recently that says, "We are responsible for actions performed in response to circumstances for which we are not responsible."   

 In other words, we may not be able to control what life throws at us, but we can control how we choose to deal with it.      

Here's what I realize looking back on the last month.   I should have encouraged the friends who offered to help to come over and keep me company for a few hours each day while I packed.     I should have asked someone to accompany me on the long 12 hour drive down here and then bought them a ticket home. 

But I'm stubborn. I don't want to put anyone else out.  I don't want to be a bother.  And I'm not the only one who thinks... I CAN DO IT ALL BY MYSELF!.... 

Well, guess what?    I can't and you can't either.   If we don't master anything else, we need to master the art of asking for help, for support, for someone to hold our hand once in a while.   Why do we have this fierce need to withdraw into ourselves when the going gets tough?    

Feel free to email me your thoughts....