I am still reeling from the blows to my heart that came from seeing my sister. Being with her in person was hard enough, but her bizarre response to my sending her flowers pushed me over the edge. I had been perilously close to the edge of depression. I am afraid that listening to her voice mail, one that should have said:
"Thanks for the flowers! They are so beautiful and you are so thoughtful."
but instead went something like:
"Um, I just got some flowers from you, and...what exactly are you trying to say? (tinge of anger in voice, then the command) Call me back, we need to talk."
Then of course life keeps happening. I've been encouraging my kids to go to therapy while they were still on our insurance, and they are both taking me up on that now. This week in fact.
Guess what that includes? They are going to be dealing with the fall-out from all those years I was trying to give them the perfect childhood according to Christian Book Distributors while dealing with an abusive marriage as well as trying to figure out what was up with my daughter and be both father and mother to my son.
I was at times a screaming banshee. I'm not proud of that, but I am proud that I was 1000 times better of a mom than I had modeled to me. I have forgiven myself for falling apart when I did, but that doesn't mean it was any less hard on my kids. Hence the encouragement to counseling by me.
All that doesn't excuse me from responsibility for the times I lost it (including today, I'm afraid) when the pressure of my life was more than I could cope. Today, though, was not the best day to be confronted with that old crap. I knew it had to happen. I encouraged it to happen. I just shouldn't have to deal with my old abusive family of origin AND my personal failures as a mother at the same time. That's just asking too much.
For the first time in years, I am experiencing the same symptoms of depression my husband has been going through. If it isn't cleared up in two weeks, I'll mention it to my therapist and we'll see about where to go from there. The logical side of my brain knows that this will pass and I will go on to living my dreams in happiness and contentment before long at all.
One thing is really different though. It is becoming plain that I will never be loved and accepted in my family of origin. I though that my oldest sister, with the help of God, was wanting to honestly do "whatever it takes" to heal the rifts. Now I am doubtful that she was honest. I don't think she understood the cost, that she would have to give up her bias in the story where she is the hero, mom is the victim and my twin and I are the villains. She likes that story. It makes her feel good about herself.
So, what do you think, ifriends? Should I just break it off for good? Wondering what other folks out there have done.