Enter, Grieving

I had a counselling session today.  Two really.  Two of my best people helped me through some of it and then I had counselling.  Between the two, I feel lighter.  One of my friends as well as my counsellor said that I have entered the stages of grieving.  Months ago, I didn't understand why both of them were saying that I couldn't be grieving yet.  I still don't really, but I feel relieved to be there now and I know that they are right.  Emotionally I can feel the difference in what I was going through before and now even if I don't know why.  My counsellor told me it was good.  She looked relieved.  She said it's hard to go through it, but it's healthy.

She also pointed out again that guilt seems to drive a lot of my struggle.  I expressed worry about my mom taking her own life.  I told her I would feel responsible.  I felt like I needed to talk to her psychiatrist again because there were things that I wished I had said, and need to feel like I have done everything I can.  She asked me to work on receiving the advice I would give someone in my position.  I would tell them that they are not responsible for their mom.  That if she took her life, it would never be their fault.  That the estrangement itself wasn't their fault.

I can't help feeling responsibility for not being able to handle my mom's illness better and still be there for her.   It's a tough one.  Ivy is the key.  It's Ivy I need to focus on.  I would be in my mom's life if I didn't have Ivy.  I know that I couldn't be maintaining this without her to protect. If I didn't close that door, Ivy would have continued to be exposed to the dysfunction I wanted so badly to protect her from.  Every time I feel guilty, I need to try to feel proud of myself for having the strength to do this to create a more stable childhood for my own daughter than what I had.  When I was talking to my counsellor about my dad, she said that the longer that someone is exposed to domestic abuse, and the younger they are when it occurs, the less and less likely it becomes that they will ever be able to separate themselves from it.  She said it takes an unbelievable amount of strength to end a cycle.  I need to feel proud of myself that I am finding that strength.  And I need to understand that that is why this is so hard.  If it was easy, there would be less abusive cycles perpetuating out there.

The Appointment

I met with her. My mom's psychiatrist.  As soon as I saw her, I knew.  She is wonderful.  My mom has a wonderful supportive place to come.  I find some peace in knowing that.

And then I told her.  As much as I could say in the hour and a half I had there.  Childhood, teenage years, my twenties, my first years as a mother.  At the end, there was no more time.  She said I cannot expose my daughter to my mom's manipulations.  She was sure.  Confident in that statement.  She said it several times.  I asked if she thought it could get better.  I saw it in her eyes.  No.  It was a silent no.  It was a pause and a look in her eyes.  It was sadness, a 'how do I break this to her'... My heart started falling.  Like Niagara Falls.

What she said, after the pause was, your mom needs to develop the ability for insight.  It's like how an alcoholic can't change until they can raise their hand and say, I am an alcoholic.  She said sometimes a little change can be enough to make the difference, but it would be a lot of work to effect a small change.

I wanted her to know so much more.  How much I love my mom.  How funny she can be.  How good she is with Ivy.  How much Ivy loves her.  How much I always wanted to make her happy.  How much it hurts to be doing the opposite.   How much I feel like I have failed her.  How I did my best.  And I'm sorry for getting so mad sometimes.  How sorry I am that I ever tried to tell her why and hurt her more by talking about it.

But the time was up.  So I left.  I picked up my daughter.  I played with her until bedtime.  I hugged her tight.  I kissed her and let her lick my arm like a puppy.  I feel so sad for her too.  She loves her grandma.

This is so hard..  Every day I question if I am doing the wrong thing.  Most days anyway.  And now, I know for certain, I can't open the door.  The person who is in her corner, her healthiest support has said what I know.  What the people closest to me try to make sure I remember.  That opening the door back up to her will hurt Ivy.  And I can't.

So now, I wait.  I need to learn to let it be out of my hands.  Her psychiatrist said if there comes a time she thinks we could discuss contact, she will call me.

One more thing.  She asked me why I always kept going back for more.  She pointed out that I did that and asked if I was working on finding out why with my own therapist.  I want to write that here so I remember.  I need to ask my counsellor to help me figure that out.

I Feel Ready

Today I will have a session with my mom's psychiatrist.  At first when she called, I was so relieved.  A chance.  To be heard. A chance for her to understand more clearly my mom's struggles with reality. A chance for my mom's treatment to get more effective with more knowledge.

And then I started to worry.  What if she doesn't believe me.  What if she does and she doesn't think my mom can change.  Then what?  I'm afraid of giving up hope.

This morning I woke up and I feel ready.  I feel open and willing to be vulnerable. Risk it.  Go in without defences and fears.

This has all been so sad and so heavy.  I don't know what today will bring, but through it another inch would be worth it.  So, here I go...