Healing

For the very first time my mother called me since we have become estranged. I did not answer and did not feel any guilt about it. That is huge for me. I can’t ever remember thinking of my mother and not having guilt about something. There was always something. I hadn’t called enough, I hadn’t gone to visit her, hadn’t told my adult children how to behave. Had not conformed my world to her expectations.  I know she doesn’t understand, I haven’t explained it to her. I tried didn’t work very well. I tried just pulling further away. It would be so simple if I could just leave it alone and not deal with her. Please don’t tell me I’ll be sorry when she is gone. Maybe I will, but I have enough guilt already. There will be an event in a year where I know she is invited. How will I handle that? I don’t have a clue yet. I know right now I don’t want reconciliation, but I have learned not to use words like never. It would be much simpler if one of us chose to stay away. I don’t see that happening. I will keep trying to heal and see where that takes me.

On to another note. My counselor has cut me loose. After only two visits. Still not sure how I feel about that. Excited that he feels I can handle myself on my own and scared all at the same time. Some of that “No wait I’m not really OK.” stuff I need to sort through. He did suggest I write to myself so when I am down I can look back on the light at the end of the tunnel. Seems like a good ideal and I probably will at some point. Just not right now and not here. So many times it feels like we are putting on a brave front for the world while we are falling apart at the seams on the inside. That is where I was last fall when I went looking for some help. I’ve dealt with my depression for long enough to know when I need a little help along the way. Self aware. That would be a good descriptor for me. The first time I went looking for a self-help book for survivors, there were none. They all focused on the many things you would become if you had lived through abuse. But what if you just became “normal?” You weren’t wacked out totally; just trying to make it on your own and have a life? That was where I was at and still am to some extent. There are so many books like “When Rabbit Howls” and if you Google childhood sexual abuse you get pages. I am happy that there are. We didn’t talk about it when I wanted to. The first time I told a Psychiatrist he didn’t believe me. I didn’t hate men so it couldn’t have been true. You kept quiet, sshhh don’t tell, you must of asked for it, it wasn’t that bad… Yes people really said those things and worse yet they believed them. It was OK to hit your kids, even when you left  massive bruises. So yes I have done some healing and I will no longer just be quiet. I will write on these pages of my journey and where I have been, in the hopes that it helps me to heal an perchance someone else along the way.

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