Why do you disdain me? I have accepted that you have excluded me, excommunicated me but I still wonder why. Although I am your first born, I am not worthy of your presence. Is it because I am a woman? Is it because I am my mother's daughter?
Why does the sound of my voice make you shrill? I can see it in your eyes, although our eyes never connect. We have the same eyes for one another now, hazel and disconnected. I used to want your approval, your love and acceptance. I tried. I called, reached out. I forgave you. Still do.
Yet, I can feel your rejection in my bones. I can sense your recoil when I enter a room. It is painful.
Where did the man go who taught me to tie my shoes and ride my bike? Have I gotten too fat for you to love me anymore? Have I not been successful enough, or too successful. Do I not deserve you and your love any longer?
Perhaps you do not feel worthy of me so you shrill away. Perhaps you see the pain you have caused me and you can't face it. I doubt that you can see that deep.
It was easier to accept you and your flaws when you were stronger, younger. It was easier to set boundaries with you then, easier to shut you out. Now that you are weak and dying, I feel I should be more for you, better to you. But what more can I do? I have tried as much as I can.
Perhaps you feel the same way.
I have already started to grieve you. Years ago I started to grieve you. I had to grieve my own mother before she passed away too. You know her, the woman you once loved then spent my whole life hating and telling me about it even on the day I was on my way to bury her. When you both divorced when I was two years old, I must have still had hope for happiness. Today, I grieve that hope and grieve that happiness.
With my own beloved husband and beautiful children, I find my heart still broken, unable to love them in the way I want. I try. I have spent countless of resources on self help books, counseling, support groups, rehab and Bible studies. Yet, in my mid-to-late-thirties, here I sit writing about the emptiness and sorrow. I chose love and a bright future, but only find loneliness and heartache.
Was this depression and mental instability in our blood, passed through the family tree? Or did your actions spur the insecurities in my heart, breaking it forever more? Now, my own children, ripe with life and the light of their future ahead of them, both struggle with mood disorders, depression and anxiety. Did I cause their brokenness from my actions or was it an illness handed to them from the core of their being found in the womb?
I am not trying to pass blame. I am just trying to solve this puzzle. Also, wondering why the disdain for me, your first-born, your only daughter?
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2 comments:
I just read this. I have got to think a bit. I can see why you hurt. I will be back to comment.
What kind of upbringing did your father have I wonder AC? My daughter feels the same way about her father and it pains me greatly as I feel responsible. She solved the puzzle a little by trying to find out about his own upbringing and family life. He had very cold strict parents.
Sometimes I think we will never get over the pain that others cause us and tht we hang onto but we can intellectually understand why things are as they are. Do you ever think your father is guarded with you because he feels guilty for having abandoned you? Or do you think he feels awkward because he thinks you resent him because he left when you were so young? Or perhaps he doesnt know you as well given he wasnt there when you were growing up.
Keep looking to solve the puzzle but know that the answers may never fill that gap in your heart. Sometimes it takes having just your very own family to do that for you. He is the ones thats missed out AC you do know that dont you?
The other really good technique I practice is this. Put the little girl inside of you in the corner of the room and watch her. She is scared, frightened, confused and feeling hopeless - would you yell at her, kick her, treat her badly? No, you would hug her, sooth here, tell her you will care for her and love her. You need to be that little girl and do those things for yourself. The imagery works well for me and I practice this one often. Hard to put into words. But take care my friend. Just asking all the questions is a great step. Just dont expect to find the answers from the person who has caused the pain because he wont get it, they never do.
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