Separation anxiety - not just for dogs

One of the few childhood memories I have from living with both my parents is me standing on my bed, looking out of my window, looking for my mam as I cried. I was holding and smelling her scarf. My dad had disciplined me for something with a smack on the leg and in my beautiful childhood naivety, I rubbed some sort of body lotion on the perfect, red hand print and hoped more than anything that she would come home and fix everything with a hug.

Around the same time in my life, every Tuesday night I would stay at my Nana's house and every Tuesday night I would cry after I was put to bed. I just wanted to go home. When I think about four year old me, I just want to hug her, because without any problem, I can summon up those feelings and I know exactly how it felt. It's hard to process now, let alone as a confused kid. But I don't know if it get's any easier.

In the year or so before I started with any treatment, I spent a lot of time alone. I stayed home a lot and I sat on my own a lot. This didn't bother me, it was my preference. I was invited out, I would make my excuses. I felt like I didn't have anything to say or more often, I just felt like what I did have to say wasn't important enough to be heard. I would shrink into the background, I would want to go home, I would want to be alone.

There are a lot of turning points for depression. Mine, without any doubt, was meeting my boyfriend. He opened up the world to me and I found myself out and about more than ever. Admittedly, it's often just the two of us, but I like it that way and we are probably too annoying to hang out with other people all the time. I do however find myself in way more group situations and socialising without problems (not always, I'm not perfect, I still have wobbles). But this awesome change has also had it's issues.

When I think of the term 'Separation Anxiety' I think of dogs. I think of them locked in the house all day, pacing and howling, while their owner is off enjoying human fun without them. It certainly isn't just for dogs though, this puppy knows that all too well.

Separation Anxiety isn't just missing someone. It isn't that you're mad that they have gone somewhere without you, that they may be, god forbid, having fun when you're not there. It is deep and uncontrollable feelings of dread, being so unsettled that you can barely concentrate, spontaneous tears and a downward spiral of thinking that can only lead to bad things. No wonder dogs howl.

No matter how unreasonable you know you are being, it doesn't matter. It can manifest itself if you are left for 5 minutes while someone goes to the bar or any time you're home alone all night. I don't think any part of mental illness is reasonable, so why should this be any different...

Brain: He's gone, maybe he won't come back
Me: What? Hold on... he's just gone to get us drinks...
Brain: Are you sure? What if he goes missing?
Me: Oh god, missing?
Brain: Yeah, I mean can you see him?
Me: No! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!
Brain: Told you, he's gone...

Meanwhile, with stomach in knots and heart rate increasing, I begin to self comfort. My own personal mechanism is to hold my own hand, I clutch at my clothes (zips, cuffs, hems etc) and I bite my lip. Sure signs that I'm not ok. Just so you know.

Of course, he comes back with drinks, clocks my tell tale signs and comforts me. Nothing has gone wrong. No one went missing. Sometimes though, things like this do cause issue, it's inevitable. It can make you look clingy, it is a lot of pressure to put on one person. It's like you're saying "My happiness depends on you", of course that isn't the case, but when all they witness is tears streaming down your face because they aren't there, then it does suggest otherwise.

People don't want to be thought of as 'psychos', possessive or annoying girlfriends. That's not what it is about. It's not that you don't want someone to go and do their own thing, it's that you just sometimes cannot cope with the separation from someone who comforts you, who makes it ok. Incidents like this are few and far between these days, but there was a point in the relationship where I did really struggle to be alone (or more accurately, without him). Even if I was with others, the anxiety didn't ease, it wasn't company I needed, it was him. This sort of burden isn't easy, but I was always comforted when I needed it and hopefully I was understood.

Though I don't crave being alone like I used to, every now and again, time to myself is appreciated. I do though find that I seek to fill my time with people and I do prefer to have company. I don't necessarily mean that I want to be surrounded or to be somewhere busy, but to just have a friend over to visit is enough.

Being alone is neither the great comfort nor the distress that it has been in the past. It is just a state of being that I am (mostly) ok to be in. I know that nothing bad is going to happen and I know that it isn't the way to solve my issues. And although I am nowhere near being a pacing, howling canine when I am left alone, I can't deny that my imaginary tail starts wagging whenever my man walks through the door.