Things I struggle with—all special days.
Mother’s Day reminded me of the last time I sat with my mother and sister. I have a framed picture from that dinner, which I sometimes want to smash with a hammer. It was Mother’s Day, four years ago.
I had been invited to a graduation dinner three weeks in advance—on the same night we already had tickets to a concert. Sweet Greg bought the tickets in February as a Valentine’s gift. They had known the graduation date for months. I apologized and reluctantly sent my ex with our children to the dinner while I attended a concert I could not enjoy—one I knew I would be punished for attending.
My sister, mother, and ex used that night to plan a birthday gathering for my son, intentionally excluding me. My mother inadvertently confirmed this, along with the fact that my sister had actively limited my contact with her children.
Will I ever stop asking: what justification could possibly make that level of betrayal acceptable? What story about me made it okay to exclude me entirely? Why was I never communicated with, never acknowledged, even at the time of my mother’s passing? All special days feel tethered to historical pain—pain designed for me by those who were supposed to love me the most.
My sister systematically maintained distance between her children and me while secretly building a relationship with my ex and our sons. Why hoard your children, manipulate mine, and call it “family building”?
The niece’s birthday is approaching. Thankfully, it also falls on the same day we said goodbye to Sweet Cooper. It is easier to acknowledge sadness alongside remembrance.
Other struggles I carry:
- Letting go of things I cannot control
- Patience
- Gentleness
- Knowing what I enjoy
- Self-discipline
- Loud or repetitive sounds
- Understanding when and how much to eat—my body does not send reliable signals. Shaky hands mean it’s time to eat; stuffed to near pain, it’s time to stop.
- Pretending and ignoring—where are my dimmer switch and mute options?
- Accepting that truth is truth, even if nobody believes it, and a lie is a lie, even if everyone does
- Listening and paying attention while anxious
- Sensory overload
- Emotional overwhelm
- Food prep and clean-up—the sensations of food or a sponge on my hands can feel unbearable, even with foods I like
