The summer of rental property cleanup has finally come to an end. The relief is sweet. I feel like this is the day I want to leave these things behind. I don't want to hold onto any of it. It's over. And with it, I want to leave behind the meeting with my mom. The neighbour who yelled. The night the dog barked for hours. The card in the mailbox. I have been taking each of these things and putting them in a backpack and hauling them around. Oh look, there's something to feel mad about, I should stop and pick it up.
Yesterday when I got to Lipton for my last day of cleaning, the garbage I had put out back the day before had been dumped, spread across the back lane and then been peed on. I got this strange feeling that it was the tenant who left me with this mess who had come and done it and I could almost climb into the moment he did it. What I felt was pity for him, because he knew that he wasn't peeing on my stuff. He was peeing on his own life. Sure, I had to clean it up, but then I got to leave it behind. He marked it. His garbage. His life. He went to the dump with it. His DNA, claiming his failures. I put gloves on, cleaned it up, had it hauled away and I walked away. The back lane looked better than before he trashed it. The last of him was gone from my life and he was his own responsibility again.
I changed my clothes, closed the door and drove away. I went to Starbucks, ordered a tea and began the next part of my life. I took out my iPad and readied myself. When it was time to get Ivy, we went to the park and Jen and I sat and talked while Ivy and Sammy played. Ivy and I went to the Keg and ate on the patio. I came home and slept deep and peacefully. I woke up and laughed out loud at the beauty of it being over.
And so it is, my road to no contact has been walked. It's time to travel a new road. Good bye, old blog. Thank you ♡
Saturday 30 September 2017
Tuesday 26 September 2017
It Begins Again
It has not been easy since the meeting. I don't know how much of that is because of the meeting and how much is just that I need to work through it and have been too busy to do that. It sits just behind the curtain, intimidating me from stage right.
I can't keep seeing the therapist I was seeing leading up to the meeting because the combination of my mom's backhanded threat about grandparent rights and several calls she made to the therapist since the meeting accusing her of not being impartial, she can't continue with me and further re-inforce my mom's belief that she did not "do her job" if my mom were to pursue anything.
I have realized that I am beginning to feel depressed. The meeting didn't bring any resolution and took away the safety the 6 months gave me. I have been too busy to really cope well and it's all piling up. I am feeling the burden of all that has been let go as I dropped everything to put out fires all summer and a dull, yet painful heartache from the estrangement cementing into place.
After weeks of turmoil, I finally got an amazing night of sleep last night. Chris stayed home an extra day yesterday to let me catch up with work and get a break. I went to bed relaxed and calm and didn't wake up at 2am with an immediately racing heart and tight chest. I woke up in the morning, completely relaxed and felt like, at last I am through this last wave of gripping anxiety.
The day was easy. I didn't feel that grip once. And then I got home, checked the mailbox and there was a card from my mom. It felt the way it might feel if something in your house was starting to light on fire, but you know you can't freeze or panic. But you also know that you have to do something, or the fire will spread.
So now what? Back to feeling like my home may not be my home forever because keeping it means giving up peace.. Back to needing to go away for special occasions. I feel this weird, calm disheartened exhaustion instead of anger, but I almost wonder if that is the depression. It feels like something similar to apathy. I'm too exhausted from it all to put up a fight, even inside.
So, I hope that I can maintain that acceptance in the midnight hours. I hope that every card comes ahead of each holiday so that I don't have to feel this defeated sadness on the occasions themselves. I hope it doesn't escalate into drive by's and intrusive visits from other family members on her behalf.
One of the things I savoured the most about the 6 months was knowing that her handwriting wouldn't punch me in the gut when I opened my mailbox and nobody would show up uninvited to make me feel awful about something I already feel awful about. I now need to grieve the loss of that safety.
I can't keep seeing the therapist I was seeing leading up to the meeting because the combination of my mom's backhanded threat about grandparent rights and several calls she made to the therapist since the meeting accusing her of not being impartial, she can't continue with me and further re-inforce my mom's belief that she did not "do her job" if my mom were to pursue anything.
I have realized that I am beginning to feel depressed. The meeting didn't bring any resolution and took away the safety the 6 months gave me. I have been too busy to really cope well and it's all piling up. I am feeling the burden of all that has been let go as I dropped everything to put out fires all summer and a dull, yet painful heartache from the estrangement cementing into place.
After weeks of turmoil, I finally got an amazing night of sleep last night. Chris stayed home an extra day yesterday to let me catch up with work and get a break. I went to bed relaxed and calm and didn't wake up at 2am with an immediately racing heart and tight chest. I woke up in the morning, completely relaxed and felt like, at last I am through this last wave of gripping anxiety.
The day was easy. I didn't feel that grip once. And then I got home, checked the mailbox and there was a card from my mom. It felt the way it might feel if something in your house was starting to light on fire, but you know you can't freeze or panic. But you also know that you have to do something, or the fire will spread.
So now what? Back to feeling like my home may not be my home forever because keeping it means giving up peace.. Back to needing to go away for special occasions. I feel this weird, calm disheartened exhaustion instead of anger, but I almost wonder if that is the depression. It feels like something similar to apathy. I'm too exhausted from it all to put up a fight, even inside.
So, I hope that I can maintain that acceptance in the midnight hours. I hope that every card comes ahead of each holiday so that I don't have to feel this defeated sadness on the occasions themselves. I hope it doesn't escalate into drive by's and intrusive visits from other family members on her behalf.
One of the things I savoured the most about the 6 months was knowing that her handwriting wouldn't punch me in the gut when I opened my mailbox and nobody would show up uninvited to make me feel awful about something I already feel awful about. I now need to grieve the loss of that safety.
Monday 11 September 2017
And So It Is..
The meeting is over. She came with arrows. She came broken. Shaking. Angry. Hurt.
Her reality is that I have hurt her. I have destroyed her. My reality is still tied to her to an unsettling extent and so my reality is somewhat the same. But I am working hard to try and feel it differently.
I heard something today and immediately realized that I still have a core belief that I am responsible for her. It was phrased about a child who sits on their parents lap, and with proper nurturing and reassurance, they will feel secure and first crawl, then walk away from their parent, to explore and discover and they will know that their parent is there and they are safe. They can remain bonded and break away at the same time. But if the parent garners their nurturing from the child (instead of the other way around), the child does not feel that they can break away safely. They want their parent to be okay and they know that they have to sacrifice something of themselves to keep their parent intact. I related immediately. I think I fall into all three of the categories that she mentioned can happen as a result. The first is the one, who in order to have safety and security, they have to give up a part of themselves. Another is the one who tries to break away, but in relationships in the future, when intimacy increases, desire decreases because in their primary relationship with a parent, love and connection came with an extra burden. And the last, the child breaks away and never comes back, but despite living a passionate life, they have little stability. In my childhood, I was the first two, and some strong hints of the 3rd. Now in my adult life, I am the 3rd and I hope that I am reaching that late enough in life to maintain stability. It amazes me to see such a link between my childhood and my lack of structure throughout much of my adult years, as well as my resistance to true intimacy. I hope that I can work on these things and move into a healthier, more secure place as a partner to my husband. I do feel that that is what is next for me. I want to be a better wife. He so deserves more of me than is currently available to him.
As for my mom.. The door is remaining closed. It is harder than I expected. I feel no relief. I don't know what to expect next and I don't feel secure as a result. I worry that I will never feel free, but I keep trying to remind myself that I have felt some freedom through NC, and I just need to trust that I will be okay, even if she is not. Right now, I know that I am not okay because she is not. I want to change that, but it is bigger than me. No matter what I do, it is there. This "not okay-ness". She isn't okay and so I can't be either. I can't un-tie myself from her. I am like a tin can tied to the back of a car being driven by someone who shouldn't be driving, but they tied me there so tight I can't seem to loosen the knot. Sometimes I can get it untied but she finds it and ties it up again. My thoughts are completely in tact and I know all of the things wrong with this situation, but I can't control it from my position behind the car. I just keep hoping that by the time I get the string to give way again, the accumulated damage won't be too much. I feel like I can recover again, but I don't know how many more times.
I realized last night as I struggled with sleep again, I don't like calling her my mom anymore. She is beginning to feel more foreign to me. She isn't what the word 'mother' means to me in my heart. That feels like a betrayal, but that goes back to the beginning..
Her reality is that I have hurt her. I have destroyed her. My reality is still tied to her to an unsettling extent and so my reality is somewhat the same. But I am working hard to try and feel it differently.
I heard something today and immediately realized that I still have a core belief that I am responsible for her. It was phrased about a child who sits on their parents lap, and with proper nurturing and reassurance, they will feel secure and first crawl, then walk away from their parent, to explore and discover and they will know that their parent is there and they are safe. They can remain bonded and break away at the same time. But if the parent garners their nurturing from the child (instead of the other way around), the child does not feel that they can break away safely. They want their parent to be okay and they know that they have to sacrifice something of themselves to keep their parent intact. I related immediately. I think I fall into all three of the categories that she mentioned can happen as a result. The first is the one, who in order to have safety and security, they have to give up a part of themselves. Another is the one who tries to break away, but in relationships in the future, when intimacy increases, desire decreases because in their primary relationship with a parent, love and connection came with an extra burden. And the last, the child breaks away and never comes back, but despite living a passionate life, they have little stability. In my childhood, I was the first two, and some strong hints of the 3rd. Now in my adult life, I am the 3rd and I hope that I am reaching that late enough in life to maintain stability. It amazes me to see such a link between my childhood and my lack of structure throughout much of my adult years, as well as my resistance to true intimacy. I hope that I can work on these things and move into a healthier, more secure place as a partner to my husband. I do feel that that is what is next for me. I want to be a better wife. He so deserves more of me than is currently available to him.
As for my mom.. The door is remaining closed. It is harder than I expected. I feel no relief. I don't know what to expect next and I don't feel secure as a result. I worry that I will never feel free, but I keep trying to remind myself that I have felt some freedom through NC, and I just need to trust that I will be okay, even if she is not. Right now, I know that I am not okay because she is not. I want to change that, but it is bigger than me. No matter what I do, it is there. This "not okay-ness". She isn't okay and so I can't be either. I can't un-tie myself from her. I am like a tin can tied to the back of a car being driven by someone who shouldn't be driving, but they tied me there so tight I can't seem to loosen the knot. Sometimes I can get it untied but she finds it and ties it up again. My thoughts are completely in tact and I know all of the things wrong with this situation, but I can't control it from my position behind the car. I just keep hoping that by the time I get the string to give way again, the accumulated damage won't be too much. I feel like I can recover again, but I don't know how many more times.
I realized last night as I struggled with sleep again, I don't like calling her my mom anymore. She is beginning to feel more foreign to me. She isn't what the word 'mother' means to me in my heart. That feels like a betrayal, but that goes back to the beginning..
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