Thursday, August 9, 2007


Last week was one of my toughest struggles ever. It was about me - my thoughts, my actions, my responsibilities. The thoughts about hurting myself and ending my life weren't new. I've dealt with those off and on through the years. Still scary as they were more intense, but I was able to deal with them. The thoughts of just wanting my daughter to be quiet and get out of my sight were more intense and it was those thoughts and the fear that I would do something horrible to accomplish that - those thoughts made me realize something was wrong. In my innermost being, the thought of hurting my daughter made me cringe. I knew it was wrong - unnatural - something to resist at all costs. I didn't cry out for help for me, but for her. I know that it was the medicine making me think that way. But I still feel a sense of shame creep in about having had those thoughts at all. On the other hand I am extremely thankful to know that the core of my being will resist those thoughts and fight against them.

Last night I called my mother. I haven't talked to her on the phone in about a month. Maybe longer. It's a far cry from last year when we'd talk every week, email every day and IM every few days. Part of it is her schedule - her work and waking hours don't match well with mine. A bigger part is that I don't think about calling her and don't really have any desire to do that. My mother doesn't have that inner core desire to protect her children. I don't understand that. Even at my lowest point last week, I knew I had to reach out for help and do whatever it took to keep my daughter safe. The evil thoughts in my head weren't able to stifle that, try as they did. Why didn't my mom fight harder?

I struggle with those thoughts while at the same time recognizing the profound joy in my mom's voice when she realized it was me on the phone. And heard the sincerity when she thanked me for calling. I recognize the struggle within me as the memories of her sacrificing me conflict with the memories of her crying when I left for college and saying she'd miss me. I can't reconcile the two. Maybe I'm not meant too?


lawyerchik said...

What you write about your relationship with your mother reminds me of the struggles I have with mine. I can only say that your mother probably loves you with all her heart, but she may have started out with less than a whole heart to begin with.

[[[[[HUG]]]]] have a good day, kid.

Lynn said...

You could be onto something with the whole 'I'm not meant to' thing. I guess that depends on what 'I'm not meant to' comes to actually mean to you.

Beautifuldreamer said...

You may never understand the disparities in your mother's words and actions. That's what's so crazy making about abusive people. One minute they can be so loving, the next they're clobbering you, shaming you--or worse.

It's good you discovered that even in the midst of your depression and not wanting to deal with your child, you were able to feel the need to protect her.

It's too bad your mother didn't fight harder, but kudos to you for better mothering than you yourself ever received!