When Being alone ISN'T ok
When being alone is OK…
All day today I clung to my mother. Her presence, her safety, and comfort. Even though I knew that by being with her I was shutting others out. By being with her I was participating in an old co-dependent routine that has been well worn by the both of us. I was afraid to do otherwise.
I knew, throughout the day, that I had been invited to spend the evening with friends. I avoided it like the plague. Coming up with any excuse to keep my mother with me. I did this, I believe; because I was filled with the kind of fear children feel when a sad parent leaves them crying at daycare for the first time.
These days, when the depression gains on my self-confidence like a creditor upon a delinquent debtor, the only thing I crave is comfort. Mother means comfort to me. I feel uncomfortable whenever I’m not with her. Though being with her isn’t always easy or pleasant, it is safe…secure…hopeful. Traits that I am developing quite a fondness for. Therefore having Her around is immensely important. She is my rock!
I remember when the abuse came out. She was there, ever swiftly removing us from Dad and danger. She never faltered. Then later on, even after my adolescent rebellions pushed her from me angrily, she was there for me after my first suicide attempt and the diagnoses of my manic-depression. She educated herself about my disease and became my sanctuary and advocate in a stigmatized world where one doesn’t talk about such things as suicidality, self-harm, or hospitalization for mentally health needs.
Even now as I push the road of recovery she’s there. She has seen me withdrawing from heroine and being given a catheter for alcohol poisoning, but she never judged…EVER! She’s loved me unconditionally. More than that she has given me my passion for music, art, literature, and education. She led me by example to question even my most proven prejudice. Learn about that, which appears different, and fight for what’s right. Force on a self-disquieting if it will end in an objective point of view.
Tonight I realize that although I am ever so grateful for Mom, I need to begin to distance myself from her. This idea scares me, which means I’m probably on the right track. I’m always scared of change. I must face the fear of separating from her dead center or perish. I may even have to go through agonizing pain without her. If I don’t, I fear that I will never be able to be alone.
I will never be able to fully really on my higher power if I substitute it with Her. If we don’t learn to live one on one with God, what will happen when those in our lives we depended on so heartily are no longer there? No one lives forever!
I only hope that I can learn to be OK with being alone. I hope I can create a safe distance between Mom and I without hurting her or becoming isolative. I wish so much for her. I wish I could give her all that she has so freely given me. I wish I could give her comfort now as she copes with a newly diagnosed bipolar disorder. I guess, though, if I could be her rock, then I would no longer be merely her daughter. I would be something for less beautiful.
I will not attach any labels to what I am going through with my mother now. I will not say whether it is good or bad, positive or negative, healthy or unhealthy. It is simply a relationship. Relationships are simply what they are. The important thing is that they, like life, are ever changing!
Autumn
All day today I clung to my mother. Her presence, her safety, and comfort. Even though I knew that by being with her I was shutting others out. By being with her I was participating in an old co-dependent routine that has been well worn by the both of us. I was afraid to do otherwise.
I knew, throughout the day, that I had been invited to spend the evening with friends. I avoided it like the plague. Coming up with any excuse to keep my mother with me. I did this, I believe; because I was filled with the kind of fear children feel when a sad parent leaves them crying at daycare for the first time.
These days, when the depression gains on my self-confidence like a creditor upon a delinquent debtor, the only thing I crave is comfort. Mother means comfort to me. I feel uncomfortable whenever I’m not with her. Though being with her isn’t always easy or pleasant, it is safe…secure…hopeful. Traits that I am developing quite a fondness for. Therefore having Her around is immensely important. She is my rock!
I remember when the abuse came out. She was there, ever swiftly removing us from Dad and danger. She never faltered. Then later on, even after my adolescent rebellions pushed her from me angrily, she was there for me after my first suicide attempt and the diagnoses of my manic-depression. She educated herself about my disease and became my sanctuary and advocate in a stigmatized world where one doesn’t talk about such things as suicidality, self-harm, or hospitalization for mentally health needs.
Even now as I push the road of recovery she’s there. She has seen me withdrawing from heroine and being given a catheter for alcohol poisoning, but she never judged…EVER! She’s loved me unconditionally. More than that she has given me my passion for music, art, literature, and education. She led me by example to question even my most proven prejudice. Learn about that, which appears different, and fight for what’s right. Force on a self-disquieting if it will end in an objective point of view.
Tonight I realize that although I am ever so grateful for Mom, I need to begin to distance myself from her. This idea scares me, which means I’m probably on the right track. I’m always scared of change. I must face the fear of separating from her dead center or perish. I may even have to go through agonizing pain without her. If I don’t, I fear that I will never be able to be alone.
I will never be able to fully really on my higher power if I substitute it with Her. If we don’t learn to live one on one with God, what will happen when those in our lives we depended on so heartily are no longer there? No one lives forever!
I only hope that I can learn to be OK with being alone. I hope I can create a safe distance between Mom and I without hurting her or becoming isolative. I wish so much for her. I wish I could give her all that she has so freely given me. I wish I could give her comfort now as she copes with a newly diagnosed bipolar disorder. I guess, though, if I could be her rock, then I would no longer be merely her daughter. I would be something for less beautiful.
I will not attach any labels to what I am going through with my mother now. I will not say whether it is good or bad, positive or negative, healthy or unhealthy. It is simply a relationship. Relationships are simply what they are. The important thing is that they, like life, are ever changing!
Autumn