What Really Happens When The Children Leave The Nest

Hilarious parody from: http://www.thetoque.com/011023/emptynest.htm

MAUI, HI-- Parents often have to deal with separation anxiety. Their children have left for college, or finally moved out on their own, leaving mom and dad with a suddenly quiet house. Shelley and Phil Pleasance are one couple that are struggling to cope with Empty Nest Syndrome (ENS).

On their recent trip to Maui, the Pleasances tried to deal with the emptiness.

Shelley busied herself by consuming several Mai Tai's and shopping for tiki souvenirs in the public market. At the pig roast one evening, she could barely contain her emotion, while she filled her face with poi.

Phil, like most men of his generation, tried to bury his feelings deep in his gut by lounging around the pool, reading a Stephen King novel and working on his tan, all the while appearing aloof from his inner turmoil.

It must have been quite obvious to their new friends, Frieda and Elmer Parkinson from Buffalo, that they were trying to deal with loss at home.

"I could tell by the way Phil was enjoying himself that something had changed domestically," said Elmer, a retired photocopier technician. "He was laughing and joking and carrying on like a burden was lifted after long years. But I could see through that."

Shelley admitted that there was an adjustment period when their son Duncan left for Stanford University in late August.

"It was so strange when [Duncan] left for college," said Shelley, who has joined an aquarobics class in their home town of Beaconsville, Indiana. "I woke up the next day, and walked naked through the house. I took a long bath, watched a few hours of television, and then went out for lunch with some friends. And that night, Phil was friskier than he'd been in a long time. It was a real adjustment."

"This sort of devastation is often masked," said Dr. Albert Phinney. "Parents, such as the Pleasances, try to handle separation grief by participating in activities that they enjoy or didn't have time for when they were raising childen. Their happiness and false sense of relief at the lessening of responsibility is often confused with the personal emotional sadness that they are experiencing."

Phil's evident pain was exhibited when he recently sold the family mini-van and bought a Camaro in a rash decision obviously clouded by withdrawal pangs associated with ENS.

"It was a rough time," said Phil. "I'm sure I was so overwhelmed with emotion over my missing son, that I made some impulsive choices. Perhaps Shelly and I should have waited a week or two before throwing that party."

"I could see that Phil was behaving oddly, and I'm sure it was due to ENS," added Shelley. "He was obviously having difficulty walking by Duncan's bedroom because he immediately turned it into a computer room."

The Pleasances hope that their planned three-week Caribbean cruise in December will help as well. But they have so much sorrow to overcome.

Life Goes On: Empty Nest and Beyond

The empty nest thing is working out ok, I must say. The highlight is having greatly reduced stress in my everyday life. Sure, I still worry like a madwoman about my girls, but I am learning that no news is good news. If I don’t hear from them for a day or two, they’ve told me I can assume it’s because they’re simply busy going about their lives. Not having their everyday issues in my face is a mad relief for me. I have time to think about other things.

Another highlight is resuming a more active social life—much like I had before I became a mother. My boyfriend of many years also has an empty nest, so we’re getting used to not worrying about whom we have to drive somewhere or wait for or consider, and going out and having fun. Just last week, we picked up and went skiing. It was so easy with two people. We pretty much just got in the car and left town. We’ve spent time with friends, going to community events, and dining out in non-kid restaurants. It’s been wonderful, actually.

The greatest achievement for me has been gaining the confidence to discontinue my antidepressant medication. I was originally prescribed Pristiq to cope with my older daughter leaving home for college 2 ½ years ago. Well, I got through that hump and a number of others, and now most of the stressors are removed from my life. I appreciate how the pills helped me maintain my composure and eliminate depression and anxiety, but I didn’t want to be medicated forever. So, I’ve been off the meds since January 17—for a total now of 20 days. I went off cold turkey, so there were a few rough, vertigo-y days in there, but I feel overall very good. I have dropped some weight and have more energy. I also feel things a little more—antidepressants make you slightly numb. I’m sure there will be times when I feel sad, even depressed, but I’ll try other remedies to get me through.

I’m proud of how far my “troubled” teen has come, and that has taken a load off my mind. Letting her go (in a way, making her go) seems to be the best thing that has ever happened to her, to me, and to our relationship. It’s a more loving one now. I know there will be obstacles and issues in the near and distant future, but I also know we can handle them if we use maturity, respect, and love. I will cross my fingers, my toes, and my eyes in hopes that this tranquility can last.

Missing the Mishegos

We celebrate Hanukkah—well, we used to. This year everything feels strange for me. The way I would explain it is I’ve been blindfolded and twirled for five full minutes then released. Now I’m utterly disoriented and have to carry on as if floor isn’t do-si-do-ing beneath me. I miss my children and the candle lighting and the gift-giving and the latke-making and the card-writing. I know that they had to grow up eventually, but I just didn’t think it would happen so soon and that the emptiness would be so…concave. I literally don’t know what to do with myself. I dash home for that peace and quiet at the end of the day, and am pacing and coming unglued within a half hour.

I could keep myself busy with “stuff,” but my heart’s not in it. I haven’t gone to any girls’ nights or happy hours because I just don’t want to. They don’t sound fun or productive and I make all kinds of excuses for not participating. I’ve even blown off my boyfriend all week. I don’t really think I’m falling into a depression, though I know isolating is a sign, but I think this is slightly different. It’s not just organic, it’s situational. Perhaps it’s exacerbated by the coming of the holidays…and the fact that Hanukkah is eight looooong nights.

My older daughter has been great and texts me to wish me Happy Hanukkah, but my younger one, the subject of this blog, has been distant and crabby and unresponsive. She’s refusing to take her medication and this is all making the holiday even more unbearable. I don’t miss her mishegos, but I miss my family—all I’ve known for 20 years.

Well, there’s always the new year. I’ll plan my resolutions well, starting with “stop feeling sorry for myself.”

I Am Suddenly So Sad

So what the hell is wrong with me? Today is my daughter’s official move out day and, despite all my cheering that I couldn’t wait for this to finally happen, I actually feel like crying. I love her soooooo much and already miss her and am worried sick about her being on her own. Despite knowing logically that she’s smart and savvy, and can handle the responsibility, it’s the same as admitting that she doesn’t need me anymore. She’s outgrown me and can do her own life.

For the past few days, she’s been so level-headed, so organized, so matter-of-fact about what she needs to do and we’ve had some adult conversations about it. We even had a mother-daughter talk about pregnancy (after she revealed she had a bit of a scare). These conversations took place at our house, civilly, rationally, maturely—the way I’ve been hoping for. AND NOW SHE’S LEAVING!

I have this sudden urge to hug her and squeeze her and beg her to stay with her mommy where she belongs. Suddenly, I’ve forgotten what brought us to this point and why I made this happen. I feel guilty, forlorn, lonely, useless…old and forgotten. And she hasn’t even moved her belongings yet. Why am I dreading this so much? It’s the right thing to do at the right time and for the right reasons. She’s an adult who wants her total independence, doesn’t want to follow my stodgy rules, and can afford to grow up a bit.

All those thoughts about having my friends over, giving parties, doing whatever I want, starting a new routine, saving money, keeping a clean house, and enjoying my freedom—why does it all sound so phony and just plain awful? Why do I now see loneliness and distance? All the mornings I grumbled about taking her to work—now what will I get up for? All the phone calls I made to see when she’d be home—what will I call her for now that won’t seem an annoyance? All the complaints I made about her being a slob—now who do I clean up after, the cat?

I’ve been a mother for 20 years—that’s what I know best. I don’t yet know how to be just a woman who lives in a house in a neighborhood and goes to work. For 20 years, I’ve known very clearly what my purpose has been—to provide food, shelter, clothing, love, doctor’s appointments, soccer practices, dance lessons, homework help, advice about boy and periods, and to give hugs and snuggles whether needed or not. I don’t know who else to be. I don’t know who else I CAN be. I am suddenly feeling so sorry for myself. Is this normal?