Empty Nests Support Group
Empty nest syndrome is a general feeling of depression and loneliness that parents/other guardian relatives feel when one or more of their children leave home. Empty nest syndrome has become more prevalent in modern times, as the extended family is becoming less common than in past generations, and the elderly are left living by themselves.
Having a pretty doggone shitty day. My kids are grown and now both are gone. Daughter is 27, newly married - which is great (and we do love our son-in-law), and if it hadn't been for her wedding this would be a completely lousy year. She technically left home the day she moved up north for college, a couple of states away - where she met her future husband, and because he's locked in up there with his family's business, they won't be coming back down here. Here is Los Angeles. Where I've lived since my parents and I moved out here when I was 9. I'm 63. Inherited the house when my parents died and here we are.
Our son (our youngest) is 24. He's a musician, front man in his own rock band, and he moved out in March. This is now December and you'd think I'd be over the worst of it. HAH! Think again. We're going to move to be closer to our daughter - who will eventually make us grandparents, certainly sooner than our son is expected to. And it's dramatically more expensive to live here in L.A. than it looks to be where we're moving.
God, I'm SO sad! I think I've cried roughly every other day all this year, starting last Christmas Eve when our son announced he was going to be moving out. Since he's a musician, you'd think he'd have the whole timing thing down, 'eh? So I cried out the old year and cried in the new year, and it looks as though I'm gonna cry out this year now, too.
My son actually asked me today if I'd thought of trying some therapy. Well, I've done that before, and while it seems to help in the beginning, you get to the end of the hour and time's up. (But what if I wasnt' finished? What if I was just getting started, and "we have to stop"?) In each case, after a few months I'd find myself battling a nagging feeling in the back of my head: that I was just jerking off here every week, and that my therapist, no matter how dedicated, does this work to make a living so of course it's in her interest in keeping the meter running for awhile. My boy said there were empty nest support groups online. He googled it and we both spotted this one.
I've read some of the posts here. I deeply appreciate everyone's being so open. I'm sorry to see how much sadness there is, and how much difficulty others are having in trying to cope with this same painful life-change. It's comforting to know I'm not alone in singing these blues. I'm tremendously glad to have found this place. I feel as though folks here understand what I'm feeling since they seem to be sharing the same struggle. This hurts so damn bad! It isn't going away! The passage of time doesn't seem in any hurry to help me heal or get over it or beyond it. And I know I should be better at coping with it than I'm currently being. I know this is natural and kids are supposed to grow up and leave, and I should be proud of how well they turned out, and I should feel great that they want to be out on their own! I should be glad that our daughter found a good guy. I should be glad that my son has decided that it's time to be his own man. Yeah yeah yeah I know all that. Yet I still feel like a black cloud glowering over everybody I know, because I realize they have their own grief and disappointments and uphill battles, too. My son even said that every time he comes over here, all he hears from me is negativity (and the election results haven't helped, either).
This hurts so damn bad. I thought I could prepare for it. I started at the moment each of them was first laid into my arms, only a few minutes old. I started trying to get ready for them to leave me. But nothing prepares you for the actual reality that finally hits. Sorry to carry on like this. I'm grateful for the opportunity to join this community.
Thank you SO MUCH for being there!
The demands on us as mothers are even greater now though strangely, because for our kids sakes, we have to put on a brave face and keep smiling, rather than rain on their parade. It's hard to 'smile though your heart is aching' - I usually have a little weep after my son's visited, but I'm all smiles while he's here - it's not his problem.
Hurts me that they see her parents (he's living with his fiancee) more frequently though, since we live on the same street! But her parents demand they visit, whereas I'm all 'OK dear - love you!' if they don't have time for me. So I think it does help if you decide on a visiting routine which is reasonable given their new, very busy lives, and demand they make time for you, like once a week - even if it's just a phone call or skype. And be upbeat around them - don't be a whiny, demanding diva, or they dread seeing us. Yes amateur dramatics training would come in handy LOL - but the show must go on, for our kid's sakes, we don't want to burden them emotionally or physically - but still we need to insist they make time for us regularly, and consider our need to see them and hug them (it's the hugs I miss most).
Your son sounds like a lovely sensitive young man, concerned for his grieving mother, who nonetheless has to prioritise his new life over his old one - that's what life is about. Which means we have to take a back seat for the first time, and that's really hard too - the loss of power and importance which motherhood gives us all those years, is difficult to swallow. But this is our new 'motherly duty' - it's very 'hands off' rather than 'hands on' and is passive rather than active - We need to 'have faith, lighten up and back off' (my 'new' motto still helps me - it's pinned to my desktop and often repeated).
I think a lot of our grief is also due to our youth being over - feeling like it's downhill all the way now. That is really hard, so it's important to mother yourself too - take good care of your diet, get plenty of sleep, try and do something fun each day, etc. Give ourselves a fraction of the care we gave our kids, and we'll be OK eventually. Christmas is just a double whammy of family time - I hate it, but I try not to dwell on it - I booked a holiday for next year, to take my mind off Christmas, and I'm not going to decorate the flat, although there is a pile of presents for the kids waiting. I find it easier to get through Christmas if I keep it minimal, enjoy some of the nice food on offer, buy gifts for everyone, send cards out, but that's it. No Christmas traditions, films or music any more - they just make me sad for what I've lost. As for regular TV I don't even have one any more - I just listen to music now - it's more soothing than news and drama, and if it's upbeat music it lifts your mood, as does exercise and dancing. I ignore the news - it happens and I have no control., so why stress over it? I am no longer important, and it's been hard to accept that, but the flipside is I also have less responsibility and duties to worry about. Essentially this is now our time to be kids again ourselves, and it's not all bad. Best wishes xxx
My husband and I were thinking back on how the whole "kid thing" started for us. My pregnancy started easy but grew harder and harder to the point it was nearly life-threatening for me. Actually both of them went that way - no morning sickness but MAN, the last three months were murder, sometimes even frightening, both times! I'd planned ahead at my hectic and demanding job (I was a news reporter). I gave myself two weeks after I left on maternity leave so I could just relax, mellow back out and stay off my feet before my due date. But sure enough, after that final Friday night finishing up at the bureau, the next OB-GYN appointment the following week was IT. Doctor with a very stern expression on his face said - "um, forget your due date that isn't here yet. You're having that baby TODAY. See you at the hospital in two hours." Our daughter was born that night. I'd been returned to my hospital room, and to sleep, but awoke in the wee hours by the worst pain I'd ever experienced. It felt as though some midget had crawled up inside me and had beaten me up with a baseball bat - from inside.
Ironically, I feel like that again now, emotionally-speaking. This time, lo these many years later, I feel like it's my heart that's been beaten up with a baseball bat - and yet again, from inside.
Thank you for letting me vent. This seems like a safe space to do it.