Almost On My Own

That's a pretty powerful statement.  I've never really been able to claim that before.  Forty-four years and this will be the first time on my own.  I mean, I'll have Waffles, but I'll have the task of making sure she doesn't die.  I mean, I am really going to be on my own, a large part of the time. I've never been successful with that yet in my life.
Obviously, I lived with my parents as a kid.  My mom and dad until I was four, then with my mom until I was fourteen, and then my dad until I was seventeen.  At seventeen, I joined the Navy.  After a year "on my own" I got married; four years later divorced.  Another three years "on my own" and then married again for another four years.  All the "on my own" quotes above is because I always had my shipmates.  So after ten years of shipmates, second marriage ending had the first potential for being on my own.
I didn't do well actually that time.  I buffed off help from family to prove to myself that I could be on my own; but after a month alone, no new job, no more money, rent due, and eventually the loss of my car - I broke.  I always have the dark thoughts.  That fear is always there, but that particular downward spiral was one of the really close times.  Thankfully, help was there; and more thankfully - I accepted it.
Things eventually got better.  So much better.  I found my penguin.  Instead of going into that, I'll summarize with the obviousness that she wasn't.  So here I am again, as I was fourteen years ago, getting ready to venture out of my own.  On my own, but with a cat.  On my own, but in familiar territory.  On my own, but with the guarantee of not being alone.
I have anxiety.  Anxiety of being alone, and anxiety of being with someone new.  I come to prefer the alone version of the anxiety.  In two weeks I finally move away from this abode of memories.  While my penguin and kids moved out six months ago, it's only next week that a version of me alone begins.  By next weekend, my current roommate will have also started his journey.  It's also most possibly the last time I'll ever see him.  That's really not the issue of this post.  He'll be okay.
Nope, this is about me.  It has to be about me.  I'm staying focused on this next step, and little else - I have to get to this next step.  So many false starts.  So many impacts by outside sources.  So many things I didn't expect I needed to plan for.  Sure, maybe after I move, I'll be able to spend time doing things that make me happy.  Maybe I'll just end up being pseudo-reclusive (you know, do things with the kids like I do now, but nothing else).

Meh.  Now I just sound whiny.  Yea, that's enough sharing.