my therapist initially talked about a family support system and then ... she met my parents. afterwards, she told me that what she was about to say was not proper but she had to say it, and that in her opinion i should sever ties with them. i wish i had listened to her. but at least now, i have no regrets. i know i tried and tried and tried. i tried too hard. more than they deserved.
after yet another moment of despicable rudeness towards me in April, i started my process of walking away. i firmly cut ties with my father and because of the messes they keep on creating that impact my life i talk to my mother rarely, but it's enough to bring it into focus that i can't have them in my life.
last month, their reckless, selfish actions (which escalated since April, as some sort of payback) unleashed one of the most damaging attacks ever in my life. it was the thing i always feared i couldn't survive (and i'm a suicide survivor, so my bar for life fears is set very high), and at the first brunt of it, i know i faulted, i know i waivered, i know i almost gave in to that fear.
i found myself standing in my kitchen with a knife on my hands and saying 'i will make them clean up all my blood. a visual reminder of their mess. of the life they gave me.' ...
and in an instant the person i worked so hard to be for the past 11 years, the one they tried so hard to destroy from the second she was born, was gone. in that instant, they won. and i am still recovering from that sadness. how easily i gave up on myself. but that's my own burden to bear and to heal and recover from. i know i will. someway. somehow. it was and is an extreme situation and despair and hopelessness are monster drugs.
i worked out of the morgue for 4 years, i learned a lot from life and death there. above all, i got a healthy respect for scars you don't inflict to others. cleaning somebody's blood has always been for me a big no no. that's why i used pills. and that's also why i still don't have them in damaging amounts in this house. even now. a little over 11 years since my last suicide attempt.
i took a step back that morning. and surveying the wreckage of their actions, i also felt the love i know i have in my life. the one i feel in the littlest things, like a dear friend really getting me and sending me this article just now. the one they tried so hard i wouldn't have. and i took a breath and i picked up the phone. and i did something outside the old script. i talked to somebody. and i stayed ... in the moment ... here.and.now.
days have past. hard ones. easier ones. and i have gone through things. and i have felt more and more peaceful about my decisions. i realized that the other brand of forgiveness that i gave, which included me going back and subjecting myself to their actions and their tempers, that i cannot repeat.
i realized that my sanity and my life are on the line. because i know that if i continue to expose myself to that i will end up killing myself and they have taken enough from me. and i am just done losing parts of myself to them. and i know - i just know - that if i maintain contact, i will end up dead.
it's not pretty nor easy. it's not common nor ordinary. but i have no other choice and for a change i am going to do things for myself.
i never really felt like i had parents. so, i can't say this is hard. it's not. it was harder 14 years ago. but back then i wasn't who i am today. there's that. they are who they are. they're entitled to that. unlike them, i don't dictate to others who they should be.
but i have the right to be who i am. and thus determine what and who i want in my life. and their role as 'parents' doesn't mean i have to endure their special brand of hellish love for the rest of my life. always at my expense. always.
so i am going to continue walking away. drawing a line. choosing me. even if that means living without parents. even that won't be hard. it's been essentially my entire life. the odd kid in the room who connects to others in a cross-sectional way because she had to learn connection and love from other sources, as one day she fully realized that whatever her parents had for her, it wasn't love. it was toxic.
i am doing it for me. for the person i spent 6 years in psychotherapy for. for the person who's been figuring what a life without a crippling depression is for the past 5+ years.
i am doing it for the mother i still hope to be. the mother i delayed on becoming because of them. because i didn't want my kids to be exposed to this. and every time i realize that i made that decision because of them, i also feel an unbearable sadness. at how much they contaminated my life with their negativity and unlove.
i am doing it because i deserve so much more than settling for the little that they are capable of giving (and always with strings attached). i am doing it because i am done with losing parts of myself over their actions. i am doing it because i deserve more in my life.
i am doing it because this is the time for me to discover how brave i am. courage. it means heart.
it's still sad ... but i'm also doing it because i've had enough sadness to last me a few lifetimes ...
days are passing. some are harder. some are easier. some days i can barely breathe because of what they've done to me and my life. and walking away doesn't mean i won't have daily reminders of how much they took from me.
walking away means that at least i have some peace, some serenity ... i am walking away because the love that i have in my life spells to me the toxicity that i don't need to have in my life ...
nearly a month ago, i almost ended my life again ... nearly a month ago, i think now that my life might have truly began ... i hope it did ...
i know i am discovering i love myself more now than i ever did. last sunday i was able to firmly end a conversation that was designed solely to hurt me the second it started. and i walked away. peaceful and hopeful ...
please read: I'M ESTRANGED FROM MY MOTHER -- BUT I'M OK WITH IT
after yet another moment of despicable rudeness towards me in April, i started my process of walking away. i firmly cut ties with my father and because of the messes they keep on creating that impact my life i talk to my mother rarely, but it's enough to bring it into focus that i can't have them in my life.
last month, their reckless, selfish actions (which escalated since April, as some sort of payback) unleashed one of the most damaging attacks ever in my life. it was the thing i always feared i couldn't survive (and i'm a suicide survivor, so my bar for life fears is set very high), and at the first brunt of it, i know i faulted, i know i waivered, i know i almost gave in to that fear.
i found myself standing in my kitchen with a knife on my hands and saying 'i will make them clean up all my blood. a visual reminder of their mess. of the life they gave me.' ...
and in an instant the person i worked so hard to be for the past 11 years, the one they tried so hard to destroy from the second she was born, was gone. in that instant, they won. and i am still recovering from that sadness. how easily i gave up on myself. but that's my own burden to bear and to heal and recover from. i know i will. someway. somehow. it was and is an extreme situation and despair and hopelessness are monster drugs.
i worked out of the morgue for 4 years, i learned a lot from life and death there. above all, i got a healthy respect for scars you don't inflict to others. cleaning somebody's blood has always been for me a big no no. that's why i used pills. and that's also why i still don't have them in damaging amounts in this house. even now. a little over 11 years since my last suicide attempt.
i took a step back that morning. and surveying the wreckage of their actions, i also felt the love i know i have in my life. the one i feel in the littlest things, like a dear friend really getting me and sending me this article just now. the one they tried so hard i wouldn't have. and i took a breath and i picked up the phone. and i did something outside the old script. i talked to somebody. and i stayed ... in the moment ... here.and.now.
days have past. hard ones. easier ones. and i have gone through things. and i have felt more and more peaceful about my decisions. i realized that the other brand of forgiveness that i gave, which included me going back and subjecting myself to their actions and their tempers, that i cannot repeat.
i realized that my sanity and my life are on the line. because i know that if i continue to expose myself to that i will end up killing myself and they have taken enough from me. and i am just done losing parts of myself to them. and i know - i just know - that if i maintain contact, i will end up dead.
it's not pretty nor easy. it's not common nor ordinary. but i have no other choice and for a change i am going to do things for myself.
i never really felt like i had parents. so, i can't say this is hard. it's not. it was harder 14 years ago. but back then i wasn't who i am today. there's that. they are who they are. they're entitled to that. unlike them, i don't dictate to others who they should be.
but i have the right to be who i am. and thus determine what and who i want in my life. and their role as 'parents' doesn't mean i have to endure their special brand of hellish love for the rest of my life. always at my expense. always.
so i am going to continue walking away. drawing a line. choosing me. even if that means living without parents. even that won't be hard. it's been essentially my entire life. the odd kid in the room who connects to others in a cross-sectional way because she had to learn connection and love from other sources, as one day she fully realized that whatever her parents had for her, it wasn't love. it was toxic.
i am doing it for me. for the person i spent 6 years in psychotherapy for. for the person who's been figuring what a life without a crippling depression is for the past 5+ years.
i am doing it for the mother i still hope to be. the mother i delayed on becoming because of them. because i didn't want my kids to be exposed to this. and every time i realize that i made that decision because of them, i also feel an unbearable sadness. at how much they contaminated my life with their negativity and unlove.
i am doing it because i deserve so much more than settling for the little that they are capable of giving (and always with strings attached). i am doing it because i am done with losing parts of myself over their actions. i am doing it because i deserve more in my life.
i am doing it because this is the time for me to discover how brave i am. courage. it means heart.
it's still sad ... but i'm also doing it because i've had enough sadness to last me a few lifetimes ...
days are passing. some are harder. some are easier. some days i can barely breathe because of what they've done to me and my life. and walking away doesn't mean i won't have daily reminders of how much they took from me.
walking away means that at least i have some peace, some serenity ... i am walking away because the love that i have in my life spells to me the toxicity that i don't need to have in my life ...
nearly a month ago, i almost ended my life again ... nearly a month ago, i think now that my life might have truly began ... i hope it did ...
i know i am discovering i love myself more now than i ever did. last sunday i was able to firmly end a conversation that was designed solely to hurt me the second it started. and i walked away. peaceful and hopeful ...
please read: I'M ESTRANGED FROM MY MOTHER -- BUT I'M OK WITH IT
