I do not suck, sometimes my behavior does–but THIS- this alllllwaaaaays sucks. Today is a hard day. I wake up every single day, so painfully aware and deeply affected by the state of my family. I recognize that I do not cause or imagine the dysfunction- and that I alone, cannot repair it. Intellectually and spiritually, I accept this– it is what it is. However, acceptance of circumstances does not block me from the emotional pain of having been treated poorly, openly diminished and then discarded. Repeatedly and consistently. I intend to never get used to it. Hopefully, I will continue to get better at not placing myself in this familiar dynamic. We learn what we live and do what we know. Unlearning–as fast as I am able and dead center in the middle of another lesson.
My boys asked me if I thought my mother would leave me anything when she dies. All I can respond with is : “I don’t know”. I suspect she may leave me in the state of pain that she sees as my due. Of course, it would be nice if her final statement to me and about me to the world, could be one of kindness. Every day– all of the days, slowly-this kills me.
Young hurt lil Magda, still needing a mama, believes this is proof of her unworthiness. Adult me, in recovery, knows it is evidence only of the sickness in our family. I can learn, grow, and know all I want– and still not one damn thing will ever make this not hurt. I may never get my head around the idea of choosing not speaking to one of my children. Or aligning with one of them, or aligning with any person at all, against one of my sons.
I will never stop longing. The heart wants what the heart wants. My sweet sons continue to foot the bill for my struggle to make peace with this-to move on-get it behind me. The best I can do, is to remind them frequently and explicitly of how wanted and loved they are, AND that they do not cause or imagine any of this. It is a painful mess. I suffer from depression and anxiety, not from them.
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