I have some guests coming up for the weekend. My mother and my step-father.
When I talk about being abused as a child, it was by my mother.
And, yes, I do still let her into my home. Why?
- I have a son and he has the right to have a relationship with his grandmother
- I confronted her about the abuse and she apologized
- We have worked on our relationship for over ten years and she accepts what she did to me, she doesn’t deny it, and she allows me to be myself
I know most abusers don’t admit their actions. And in that way I suppose I’m lucky, if you could call it that. At least she accepts what she did.
I am under no illusions that she is “better,” however.
She said she doesn’t remember what she did to me. I believe her because a lot of people when they’re abusive and mentally unwell don’t know quite what they’re doing. That’s no excuse, don’t misunderstand me. I still know what she did to me was very wrong, and I am still working through the wounds.
In a lot of ways I find it ironic that I can have her in my home and enjoy spending time with her.
For a while it was still a bit sick, I still wanted to earn her love. When my son was young I still carried that everlasting hope that she’d become the mother I wanted to have. The mother I deserved. But I know now she will not be that woman.
I went through years and years of hating her for what she did, but I didn’t express it and turned it inwards, hence my depression and anxiety.
I think her behaviour really hit home for me psychologically after I had my son. I have always considered my son a miraculous gift, and I could never imagine treating him the way my mother treated me. The idea is abhorrent to me. I am not an abuser, never have been. Maybe that’s why I can forgive her to a certain extent.
I know for myself that keeping that anger alive ultimately only hurts me, and the people I love. If I’d kept holding onto the anger I would’ve become more and more diseased by various physical and mental problems because I’d be holding that hate inside myself. I have decided I just don’t want to do that.
And over the last two years since I had my breakdown, I’ve been slowly ridding myself, layer by layer, of all that pain and hate. It’s been very hard to let go because I’d learned to use it as fuel to keep going on. But now I use love as fuel, and that’s been an eye-opening transition for me.
So when my mother walks through my door this afternoon, I can honestly greet her with my heart. Not a naively hopeful heart, I know she isn’t the mother I really wanted, but in some ways I feel lucky that she’s my mom. And I think that’s healthy, and okay.
I feel pretty mixed up today.
I’ve had some really good things happen and some discouraging things happen. I suppose somewhere in between them there’s balance.
I received a really nice message from a man on a singles site. I had shown interest in him and he let me know that he’s about to meet someone and doesn’t like to pursue more than one woman at a time. He said my profile was very interesting, but he wanted to see how things go with the other woman first. I thought that was very honest and filled with integrity. And I thanked him for letting me know. He’s renewed my faith in the online dating scene.
I also found out that my ex-husband, the father of my son, wants to spend more time with my son. My son has been with me 100% of the time for about six months. I guess his dad is missing him. So I may have my three evenings a week back, and my son may be seeing more of his dad, which is very good. Especially since my son’s 16. He needs a man’s influence in his life too.
I woke up and realized I have a yeast infection. Often after I take antibiotics I get one. I just feel as if with my woman garden (thank you Jenny Lawson for this term!) it’s been one thing after another. First the UTI, now this. Blah!
I know it’s not really a big deal or even that unexpected, but I’m tired of feeling tired. The UTI kind of knocked me out, and often the yeast infection medication does too.
I’ve been worried about making enough money for a while now, and it’s damned difficult to be productive when all you feel like doing is curling up in a ball and sipping on tea! Something about this feels so November in Canada. It’s a month where everything is going to sleep or dying, we are overwhelmed with grey all around us and it’s getting cold and it’s dark so early we feel like going to bed at 5pm. Not an inspiring month.
And when I went for my healing treatment on Monday apparently the first two chakras are linked to creativity and our financial life. Figures! No wonder my woman garden is unsettled.
But then as I was driving back from the pharmacy feeling sorry for myself I realized that compared to some of the things going on in the world, a yeast infection isn’t much. And the UTI isn’t much either. Even my financial concerns are only temporary.
My heart goes out to the families of the victims in Paris and the countless others physically hurt from the terrorist attack. Now that is something really beyond discouraging, and has made me realize I’m having a pretty regular day.
My debate is about whether I contact my first love or not.
It’s been about 30 years since the last time we saw each other.
He could be married and have kids. He could be single. Or somewhere in between.
I feel like an inexperienced teenager again agonizing over little things.
In March, I requested to be Friends on Facebook and LinkedIn and he didn’t respond.
After having a series of dreams with him in them over a few nights I wrote him a message on Messenger. He’s not on Messenger so I don’t know if he read it. It was an apology for something that happened between us all those years ago. I really needed to get it off my chest. It was quite emotional and it may have unsettled him, but I really felt he deserved to know how I’d felt about him. I said in the message I’d love to hear from him, but I haven’t.
I’d love your input on this.
One of my guy friends says maybe he is my soulmate. OMG.
I’m not sure I believe in soulmates after all I’ve been through. I’m trying to, but it’s not easy. And I know it sounds kind of crazy, but I miss this guy. Even though I haven’t seen him for 30 years it’s as if he’s calling to me somehow.
Would it make any sense to look up his phone number and call him?
I admit the idea scares me, but I can’t shake this feeling that we still have a connection.
What would you do? Would you let it go? Would you call him?
Please, help me if you can. I’m feeling so stuck with this and I don’t want to miss an opportunity because I’m feeling chicken shit.
In my dream last night I was once again wanting to touch the first boy I fell in love with and who fell in love with me.
I had three dreams with him in them last night, and my ache for him was just as real as it was when I sat next to him in class.
When he would stare at me and sing me love songs and be unable to pay attention in math class.
But he and I have this connection that I don’t totally understand, and likely never will.
I can feel his energy inside of me.
When I was going to run into him in the subway I would get this feeling in my gut and then he’d be there.
And it happened again and again.
I still don’t know how it’s possible that I could feel him when I had no idea he was nearby. But then a part of me did know he was nearby, but not consciously.
I find it a bit freaky and wonderful all at once.
The only thing I can know is that our connection was and is still alive. He must be open to me the way I’m open to him or it wouldn’t happen.
I haven’t seen him for many, many years, but somehow we’re still connected to each other. Maybe we always will be.
I’d love to see him again. I have no idea if I ever will, but it would be magical for me.
And I believe in magic! (Aren’t these lyrics from a song?)
I had a dream with rats in it last night.
Then I read The Bloggess’s post for today and she talks about PokemonGo rats!
The Bloggess is my total heroine!
Now I totally believe I have a psychic link with The Bloggess through PokemonGo!
She says she and her shrink talked about how PokemonGo is getting people out of the house, out of their depressive isolation, helping to reduce their anxiety and even OCD!
How cool is that! Now I totally know why I was dreaming about rats!
Thank you SO much The Bloggess!
(Can’t wait for your next book to come out by the way. Just sayin’.)
I’ve had to resort to sleeping pills again.
After 3 or 4 nights of really unsettled sleep, I resorted to the pills.
I don’t like needing them, but at the same time it’s such a relief to know I’ll actually sleep through the whole night when I take one.
Is it my depression that’s causing the fitful sleep?
Is it my perimenopause?
Maybe it’s a beautiful cocktail of both.
I’ve read that it could be unresolved issues. If that’s true I may never sleep well again.
No, but seriously, for someone who used to sleep like a log, it’s really frustrating.
I don’t want to keep taking pills. I’ll become resistant to them and need more and more.
I could end up going the way Marilyn Monroe did. Though I know of the conspiracy theory, but I haven’t been sleeping with a mobster or the president and his brother so I think I’ll be okay. As far as anyone staging my death is concerned, that is.
No, I’m unimportant enough to just need to find a more natural solution.
I’m going to research perimenopausal natural supplements. Maybe that’ll help with not only the insomnia (I hate to use that word), but also the night sweats and hot flashes too.
One can hope, right?