The new year is always such a hyped up affair. Everyone seems to want to go out, party and have fun. Resolutions are made with the best of intentions to make them and keep them. It’s a time for a fresh start.
For me, new year has always been a time where I just want to sit and cry, hide away. I’ve done the resolution thing year after year and never stuck to it past the first few days! It’s cold outside and my memories of new years growing up was of arguments and watching TV. It’s not a happy feeling and I dread it.
My last post I wrote that I was going to look at the future by working on getting myself well enough to get to uni. This is my goal and where I hope 2015 will lead. But it would be foolish of me to think for a second that this is even going to be as simple as it is to write.
I hadn’t planned on writing again this year, but a phone call from my brother yesterday has prompted me to write again sooner.
Talking to my younger brother was really nice, a little awkward at times as we are not as close as we could be. But it was a good conversation and I enjoyed hearing everything that he’s up to. My mum was with him so after speaking to the kids I was given the phone back to speak to her. It was like talking to a long distant relative that you’ve got nothing to say to other than small talk. This is my mother…the woman who carried me for 9 months, who cared for me at some point and whom I see having close relationships with my brother and sister. My parents are divorced and even they have a warmer relationship than we do. Whilst we were talking it felt like she was eager to finish the conversation as soon as possible, like I was not someone whom she wished to speak to again any time soon.
It really shouldn’t be such a surprise or hurt as much, but it does. It hurts like crazy and I can’t seem to find a way of accepting it. I’ve tried sooooo many times to let it go, to just accept it and realise there’s nothing I can do.
I have all these churning thoughts that simply race around my head and at times they are really loud. Like they are at the moment.
Inside I can feel this little girl who is desperate to have her mother’s approval. For her mother to be proud and supportive. Instead I feel like I’m diseased; a massive disappointment. I’m weak and haven’t lived up to all those expectations that she had for me. I have failed over and over and over again.
Over the years, especially in my mid to late teens onwards, it has been very hard to get her to take me seriously. To understand and see me as someone who has valid opinions, views and beliefs. That there is more than one way of viewing things and that I’m entitled to think how I do.
I’ve been patronised by her, and at times by my brother, because my grades in school were never great, I dropped out of taking my a levels because I had another breakdown and took an overdose. I was pregnant at 17 and just seemed to ooze everything that she didn’t agree with.
I’ve been accused as well of not listening to her, of not appreciating my education and the opportunities it provided me with. I’m apparently very bad tempered and difficult to get along with.
Having my education thrown at me makes me angry. I was a child and never asked for her and my dad to work and spend that kind of money on school. I hated school and being sent away to boarding school at the age of 10 was hard to adjust to. But it was her decision, not mine. At 14 having had a very turbulent time with changing from one school to another I wound up in a school which was in London and a long bus ride from where we lived. My mother eventually washed her hands of me and my education because I got into a fight with another girl which led to me and two other girls going to the emergency department. My head teacher was apparently rude to her and from that moment on she didn’t want to know.
My relationship with her has been up and down ever since I can remember. I have tried so many times to be what she wants me to be, to mix with the kind of people that she would approve of, to speak how she thinks I should…I’ve tried everything but I’m not ever meeting her standards.
Any of my brother and sister’s failings are always excused away. They are her golden children. They are what she wanted me to be like.
I sometimes wish my life was easier and that I had not turned my back on my upbringing so drastically as I might not be in such a financially fragile position now. But as a person, the things I believe and that I stand for are not what I would want to change. They are what makes me who I am and why I have the friends I have today and also why I want the career I want.
The idea of going to work and lining my pockets with money in a meaningless job does nothing for me. I’ve never wanted that. I’ve always wanted to do something which helped others. Ever since I can remember seeing others in pain, physically or emotionally, has been something I feel immense empathy for and I have to do something…but to my mother that makes me weak. Even talking to my brother, being a clinical psychologist is not all that…it’s not a proper doctorate.
I feel like I’m a giant loser and this thought and feeling inside is a constant battle. I’ve tried recently to see the good things within myself, it’s hard but I’ve been doing better at it. But this phone conversation has just blown it all back up and more because I don’t remember a time when my mother has been so cold when there hasn’t been a huge argument. This time nothing has happened. Since May/June I’ve spoken only once to her and that was at the end of November and was just as tough as yesterday.
I don’t understand what I have done wrong. Why I am not able to have the loving relationship that she and my siblings enjoy.
There is a little part of me who knows that I need to just let it go, walk away. But I see my children and it just is impossible. My husband believes I need to let it go and accept it for what it is, but how do I do that? I don’t know where to start. Am I meant to harden my heart? I can’t do that.
This year I let go of a friendship that I’ve had with someone for 25 years. She was a lousy friend and it was only from her lack of support recently and the pain and how fucked up inside I felt that I was able to see it. That I was able to realise she caused me far more harm than she ever offered good. I had to think about myself and stop trying with her….so I stopped…but it still hurts and I still feel hurt, rejected and not good enough. I am angry with her. But I don’t bother her any more and I don’t expect to hear from her. But she was a friend…not my mother. I can’t do that with my mum.
The new year is knocking so loudly yet I know that the pain and the hurt from this year will carry through, that all the problems that my family and I have are still to be worked through. I know that the 1st of January 2015 is not going to bring with it a sudden joy and happiness, an epiphany of understanding and abilities to make all the wrong right.
2015 is just another year on, another year to try to make my life better, to make sure my kids are healthy and well and that my husband feels loved and appreciated.
If I’m honest, I am scared of what the new year is going to bring. The expectations of those around me and how I’m going to respond. I desperately want my life to have more meaning and to feel calmer and settled.
I want my mental health to just stabilise enough to function better. I want to be in control again. The new year isn’t going to bring this, I have to bring it, but it’s scary and I’m frightened by it.
2015 is the year that I have to face my past and find a way of dealing with it in the present…I have to face my relationship with my mother, I have to deal with the sexual abuse as a child and in my first marriage. I have to deal with the emotional scars that I have been left with from my first marriage too as these are clearly a big issue right now.
I feel really alone and lost with this battle and whilst I have therapy in the form of a therapist and dbt…I don’t feel ready. I want to hide from it all. I want to take coke and drink and just not have to think or feel. I want to runaway from it all.