Since I learned about my mother’s (now confirmed) cancer diagnosis, I thought it was prudent of me to go find a therapist…which I did. After my sessions through my workplace’s EAP runs out, I think I will continue my sessions with her. She was the one I went to see after my chemical pregnancy – early 2014, by the way. I find it hard to believe that it’s been that long. It feels like yesterday…almost I learned of Tadpole‘s fate shy of a year ago today.
But I digress.
As I was talking to her and telling her how I felt it hit me what exactly I was feeling. I was disconnected. I am disconnected to the entire situation. Physically and emotionally. I can almost see the events being played right before my eyes and the person that’s supposed to be me, isn’t me. But she is me.
I’m sure I’m not the only one who has a complicated relationship with their mother (or fathers or both). I was always jealous of those people who could call up their parents and just chat. I am envious of my husband when he decides to call his parents because he hasn’t talked to them lately. How does that work? What kind of relationship is it? It has to be different from mine, right? Yes and no, is really the answer. Issues abound with people. It’s just what happens. Show me the well-adjusted person and I’ll show the makings of a person with deep dark secrets, just bursting at the seams.
I said that I don’t know how to heal the breach or if I can. She is a firm believer in not talking about the past. Have a problem? Let me fix it. No, you can’t fix it. You’re just a kid who doesn’t know better. Yes, I will always be her baby. But I am an adult. I ask for help when I need it. I *can* solve my own problems. I know she desperately wants me to talk to her like a friend, but after many phone calls where I tell her what’s going on ending in “you should do better” or “be your best” it’s hard to open up.
I’m not writing to complain – even if it may seem like it – I’m writing about this because I’m trying to reconcile the fact that I will probably never heal the breach between us. She’s my mother and I love her but at the same time, I can’t do all the work.