I have not written anything for several weeks.
Not because I have fallen off the sober wagon( thank goodness) I’m still dry, and very close to one years continuous sobriety now ( March 12th)
The last two or three weeks have just been very difficult. I’m not sure I can write about all the painful and distressing emotions I have been experiencing; I’m too vulnerable to describe the extent of the verbal and emotional battering I’m getting from son no 2 right now; I’m not at all sure how I feel about it, beyond being upset that he is clearly so angry. He would say that ‘explaining’ things is just me trying to absolve myself of responsibility for a variety of unforgivable omissions and poor decisions. Maybe it would be. So I’ll leave it for now.
I have found myself weeping as I looked for the empathy I have missed from my mother all my life. In the end I think that’s what it boils down to, I have just wanted my mother to say ” Its ok, you are doing alright; this IS hard, it would be hard for anyone” … and I have struggled to accept that she cannot. Not because she is a bad person, but because she either can’t see that I have needed that, or she doesn’t feel it.
I’m feeling a small but significant upturn in mood this week. This maybe because I am on leave from work this week, but I can feel energy returning and I have been very proactive the last few days. Part of me is beginning to truly believe that I need to prioritise myself; that endless trying to provide what I think my children want / need is neither effective, appreciated, or productive. And running around after them all the time, doing everything just makes me cranky.
I’m ploughing on with my therapy – i fond it so helpful, although it sometimes feels like 3 steps forward and then two back.
and I’m gearing up to do what I know I must, blocking my ExP from all contact. I can’t bear to do this. I cant bear to accept that it IS really, finally, completely over.
But I must or I will never be able to move on.