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.