Can We Work This Out?

Growing up my mom was sick a lot.  She was often in the hospital and sometimes it was touch and go for her recovery.  It was frightening never knowing if things would be ok with her.  We'd be farmed out to church friend's homes to wait out her return to health.  I remember being scared, a lot.  The uncertainty was real for me.  The lack of understanding of what was really going on was also hard on my little girl soul.

My parents were a private couple.  They fought in the bedroom with the door closed.  (A lot of good it did.  I still heard.  I still saw mom come out weary and tear stained.)  They kept a lot of mom's sickness to themselves too.  Or maybe it just seemed that way to me.  Maybe my brother and sister knew, but my fears kept me wrapped up in my childhood bubble , from knowing and feeling.

As difficult as those times were, there are days I wish I could go back to that place of protection.  I'm no longer sheltered from the hard things,  from hurt.  I don't like it.  I want my bubble back.

My mom and dad are both gone now.   I miss them a lot on my hard days.  I miss them most when I don't want to be a grown up and wish I could just run away home to mom.  (Wait, that wasn't really the direction I used to run when I lived there -- more like away from home.  Oh we do grow up  -- eventually.)

Sometimes when I can't make sense of my life and I want to run, the only place I know to run to is home -- but that place is no more.  Those are the days I feel the most lost.  I long for those phone calls to mom asking her to help me figure out what to do.   I'm not sure she really knew when I did call, or if I even wanted to listen to her ideas, still those phone calls validated me and my pain.

I want to run away tonight.

D and H had a big bump this evening.  D didn't behave right and H was worse.  I only saw part of the tussle.  What I saw didn't lend credibility to H's side.   H wouldn't yield.  He wouldn't apologize.  He wouldn't believe what I said I saw.

I felt like I was talking to the addict again.

I felt like I was back in crazy town.

Before I knew about addiction, I used to try to explain to anyone who would listen that trying to talk to H was like trying to talk to an alcoholic's bottle.  I couldn't reason with it and it wouldn't make any sense if it talked to me.

It was like that again tonight.

H said I wasn't listening to him.

Why do they do that when you disagree with them?

I didn't always have the personal conviction to hold to my own beliefs, feelings, or boundaries.  I subscribed to some unspoken message that any conflict is contention and that was not a good thing to have in the home.  My disagreeing, to support my own position would be contrary to being that peacemaker I was supposed to be.

This has been such an issue to me that it is one of my personal boundaries:
2.  I have the right to my own personal opinions and beliefs.  I have the right to be able to state them in a safe environment without being ridiculed or negated.

I ran into a boundary breach tonight and opted to give myself some space and stay downstairs on the couch.

I'm concerned about little D.  I know she holds a lot of anger towards her dad.  I'm working with her, but I need more time.  H in his militant, black/white, type A personality wants her fixed now!  I just don't know how when the change is slow in him too.

We're all a mess right now.    All of us.  

My mom used to tell me that day 3 after surgery or after a procedure was the worst.  Maybe month 3 after such a horrible disclosure and such rampant acting out is the worst.  Maybe I'm in that middle pain threshold that if I just hold on -- this will pass.

On the other hand, maybe I'm still banging my head against that brick wall that will never budge.

I just wish Mom could tell me what to do right now.