The Broken Clock
For 4 brutal decades, I was distraught over the confusing swings of mood(with me indicated as THE cause) by my mother, sister, and later my husband/now ex-husband. At times there would be eye contact, engaging conversation, and something resembling connection– then long periods of averted eyes and zero acknowledgment when addressed, or a surprising character assassination in response to something from months or even years earlier. Then, compliments, gifts, or initiatives to engage, close on the heels of emotional vacancy or barely contained rage- impossible to discern which. It is too much.
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My recent exchange with my mother awakened in me the exact “nature” of my lifelong experience, as her dependent and child. If I said I was cold, rather than a sweater, snuggle, or blanket, I was offered a reading of the thermostat as proof that I could not feel that way (if I were normal, worthy, and honest). When I reported hunger or need a restroom, similarly, I was reminded of having recently eaten or relieved myself, OR that I was just too fucken much. Support was available only when she shared the sentiment. When my experience differed, I was reported to be equal parts incorrect and troublesome. I literally learned to doubt myself at a cellular level. I was wrong about things, over which technically, I would be the ultimate authority: hunger, exhaustion, fear, sadness, cold, a full bladder. Right? 
My truth is that I mostly do not have a choice about my first thought, but I do have the choice to indulge it or to redirect my thoughts AWAY from obsession or reactive behavior. I learned this practice late in life. Being commanded to lighten up and get over it drove me more deeply into darkness and shame over my complete lack of knowing how. It was essential that I do so, if I wanted to belong. I see now, that it could not be modeled. You can’t teach someone how to be an entirely different person from whom they are. The message was “Be Different from how you are, dammit”. To this day, I cannot. And the miracle is- I do not apologize or even feign an intent to be other than how I am. I strive to be spiritually stronger, and to engage a closer connection to God. That will allow me to mature into the person I am meant to be. Conforming to the will of another human won’t. I don’t know what makes me a sensitive and expressive empath, picking up on energies around me, while others remain deeply unaffected. I did not choose it and I cannot un-choose it or judge it. When having your feelings and truths debated and punished is a pattern, it is time to remove yourself. Patterns don’t lie. 
After more than a year of wrestling with the reality of having my family of origin show me for the last time how little I mean to them, I am feeling as if maybe I am ready, to intentionally, for a few minutes each day, focus on doing something physically, mentally, spiritually to elevate the quality of living for myself. It has been difficult to exist in close proximity to people dedicated to erasing and silencing me. My internal fight with this reality has been all-consuming.