Mother's guilt

I have mother’s guilt. I was not there for my child’s big moment. Indeed there are many big moments in a child’s life, teeth lost, presents unwrapped, good report cards and school plays. The X has missed many. Last night I missed one, the only one ever. D was performing in a show, she begged me to come, didn’t understand why I couldn’t. Needless to say, it felt awful.

To compound it, SHE was there. There were also others, family and friends to cheer D on, but it feels worse because of this particular presence. I don’t feel bitter, just annoyed.

The evening continued with bizarreness. There were some confusing feelings between myself and who I am know going to refer to as L. We were at dinner and his X walked in. He claims it was fine, but her vibe was clearly venomous. I knew exactly what she was feeling. It’s hard to see someone you loved for so long with another person. I don’t think he has settled on what his relationship with her should be. And I know, that is a daunting task to balance on an ever-changing scale.

I felt inundated with a myriad of relationships. For one day, and I will make sure, one day only, there were at the forefront of my mind. By the time they had settled from their chaotic dance, I was in desperate need of validation. An old friend came through and took me to the movies. That helped.

New Year, New Moon tonight, hold tight.

Fight or Flight

I learned long ago to never tell any one person everything. I no longer blurt out everything about myself to a new person. Truth be told, there is now just too much in my long life to tell. But my recent events over the last couple years are overwhelming.

It is to this point that I keep things close to my chest. Unfortunately there is just so much information that I still come across as “intense” and certainly complicated. As people get to know me I think they can predict how I will react, how I will be. This part I can’t hide. The details become less important. As much as I feel I have held back information, it really doesn’t matter to those that have gotten to know me.

New relationships are tricky. Not just with my so-called baggage, but because they seem expendable. I am more willing to quit them if they are not working for me. While I would never do this with an old friend, the ones that have truly been through it with me, it seems easy to end situations where I feel misunderstood.

I question myself on the self-serving part of this. Gratification is nice. I don’t consider myself a taker, but when a friendship becomes unequal, I lose interest. Perhaps it has to do with the profound neglect I experienced with the X. That certainly felt unequal. And as a result I want nothing to do with that feeling again.

I’m in a new situation now. There seems to be some struggle to define it, it’s clearly not a true relationship as there are many outside complications from both sides. My own, which I’ve understated, his own, which I find myself giving more credence to. I cringe when I realize this.

Looking objectively the whole thing seems messy and just too much. It seriously makes me wonder whether anything will come easy in my personal life or if I should just commit to become a cat lady....with dogs.

The Holidays

So far so good on remaining drama-free for the holidays. I am cruising through unscathed and trying my darnedest to remain so. It is not without some significant effort and spectacular acting ability that I’m getting through.

The X has just had his girlfriend arrive at our house, now his house, on the island. Our kids are with him. On video chat I put on my brave face and deliver my positive message like a Prime Minister to his citizens. All will be well my people. Their little faces search me for meaning and all I can do is encourage the change. I say things like “sounds like fun having more people there. This is a good time to get to know her.” Of course I inwardly cringe, but I try my best not to let them see that. I dread meeting her by video camera.

The X led me to believe she would be there over Christmas. This took months for me to reconcile in my mind, the idea that she would be there opening gifts with my kids. I don’t know why I feel more significance with this act than any other. Could be my obsession with all things Christmas and the traditions we made and have now lost. I found out a couple of weeks ago that she would arrive after, and for some reason, this made me feel better. It meant she was spending the holiday with her family, not mine.

I can’t help but feel possessive. It’s the mothering instinct. It’s interesting to me that the kids are still my first priority after being told by a couples therapist years ago that my spousal relationship should come first. This was a concept I found hard to grasp, and apparently, still do. It’s hard to imagine anyone coming before them. This may be to my detriment, that my personal life will forever remain separate from my relationship with them.

Any idea of someone blending in with us is really hard to imagine. It seems incredibly far away, if it even exists at all.

Priorities and Perspective

I’m on my own once again. This past summer when the girls went to spend their vacation with their father, I had just found out about his girlfriend, and subsequently went on a bit of a self-indulgent bent. This time is different, I feel clarity instead of numbness. I’m focused on things to be done and most importantly, in charge of my priorities.

When I was raising children I heard a lot about the work and family-balancing act. This scale is heavier now for me. My practical mind tells me what should be up there, my emotional mind likes to battle it. For me the balance is between these two minds, allowing one to inform the other, but not dictate or overpower one another.

Of course at the top as always, my kids and my health. The others scramble for attention below that; The X and his demands, career and ambition and my struggle to have a personal life. There is ebb and flow on all of these points. But there are certainly times when I have no problem eliminating any one of these. The foundation and support I have from friends and family help to keep it all in perspective.

It’s funny that much from a year ago is such a blur to me. Psychologically I’m not sure where I was. I can blame it on the meds, but if I’m truthful, I take more now and my judgment doesn’t feel clouded.

With the kids gone for the Christmas break I will lean on friends and family, tis the season after all. Loneliness will not occur, though I will have time for lots of thinking. I just need to stem that impulse to over think things.

Trip anticipation

I have just booked tickets to see D in the New Year. It is a trip that is loaded with trepidation and excitement. I am very excited to see her and miss her terribly during this time she has been with her father.

The anxiety I have around the trip has more to do with my old life. I will be staying in a hotel instead of at my house, which is really no longer my house, as the X took it very soon after we split. The house itself represents a lot. I had my stroke there as well as some pretty seminal and nostalgic moments in my life.

The last time I went to the island, a year ago, it was with the high hope of a reconciliation with the X. I think at this point it is safe to say it was utterly disastrous. We had major misunderstandings about how it went; I thought it was over, he thought it was a fresh and slow start. I came home and started dating someone. D, in her childlike way, reported back to dad who went ballistic and called the lawyers in reaction.

It is with this strange taste in my mouth that I anticipate the visit. My dates were carefully chosen not to overlap with his girlfriend’s visit as well as the hub bub of the holidays. This is hard to handle when D is constantly asking why I can’t come over Christmas. I respond diplomatically saying “well you guys will be so busy” but what I really want to say is “there is no way in hell I want to see that woman.”

I blame her for nothing, it’s a gut reaction. I have come to terms with the new family dynamic. Accepting and balancing the relationship I have with the X is another story that seems to be in evolution. I have a strong bond with the kids. My old life is over and there are many parts that I don’t miss. But being there will undoubtedly dredge up old wounds. That’s what I have to prepare myself for.

Looking back

No one likes living with regret. But I have done some foolish things in an attempt to seem capable and responsible. Namely, living alone with my children so soon after my stroke. I was trying, well desperate really, to achieve my pre-stroke life in any way possible. Mental motivation pushed me physically and at the time I felt ready to resume my rightful place.

Looking back now, a year and a bit later, under a cloud of fog for that period, I question whether I should have done that. Particularly now that I am discovering that very few stroke survivors even live alone, much less as a single parent with children.

My biggest regret is not focusing on them more. The distraction I had created by embarking on a new and somewhat disastrous relationship didn’t help matters. Not only was I guiding them inappropriately, I wasn’t paying much attention to my own health and wellbeing. There was a cruise control going on for me. A real persistence to reiterate to everyone around that I was just fine.

It took a few months, but the slow crash came and sunk me to the bottom. My children were with their father at the time. I felt at sea, with no focus that our daily routines had held. They were the glue and I was like a limp piece of paper barely holding on. Without them, I sunk into my couch for weeks.

It was no surprise at this time that my body started to give out. I had spent 3 months on no medication, but within a short period, I was dosed up on a fair bit. My health has been an ongoing frustration, but back then it was just frightening. It was a period when I had no idea what would happen next. I was up at night anxiety-ridden, convinced I would have another stroke. Every little pain was an alert. When I woke up in the mornings I was thankful I was still alive.

The depths I felt coincided with the anniversary of my stroke. While I think the depression was short-lived, it is a sadness I cannot forget. It drove me to take action and that is the path I have been on ever since.

A good part of this was letting go of my pre-stroke life. There was a grieving process around that, not only for myself physically, but for the lifestyle I once had. The love and downright idealism that came before and no longer existed. I had to mentally separate from my X as we had in person. His life was no longer mine. We shared memories, secret nostalgic moments, and of course, parenthood. Chances of a reconciliation came crashing with his instigation of making our situation legal.

The learning curve for my children still continues. I’ve been accused of no longer being “a fun mom”. This hurts, and I say so. I cannot be the same mother, I am a different mother. Better in a sense because I have been forced to learn so much about myself, I only see this as being an extension to them and that ultimately the trauma we’ve been through will undoubtedly strengthen them.

One of the great things about parenthood, is that tomorrow is always another chance to make things right. Currently the X has our youngest, D, with him, while I care for our eldest, M. It is a brief arrangement that will enable us to focus on each child individually and so far it seems to be bringing all four of us great joys and strides forward.