Sorry for the melancoly
The month of April is terrible for me. I look forward to a month of sad posts. So I apologize in advance, but the month is usually full of introspection and thought, along with grief and sadness.
My shrink appointment yesterday was spent sobbing.
The utter depth of missing my mother really hit me this week, as did the shrink's words. She told me that I never really learned how to live, and that I've been so scared of life. I talked about how my anniversary is this month, mother's day the next, and that I never ever hope for anything good, because nothing good happens anyway. No one ever surprises me. No one ever makes me feel wanted and validated. At best, I'm briefly remembered the day before. It's only one step removed from my father having to be reminded of my birthday, and then asking me how much money it would take for me to go away.
What really got to me was the connection she helped me make-that my lack of hope in ever having someone do something good for me is linked with me hoping, and praying as a child that my mother would not die. My hope got me nothing. My mother's hope had to be crushed so that she would finally let go and end her pain. Hope only brings me pain.
And it's a terrible way to live, I know. But it's the only one I know how. Last year, on Mother's Day, when my husband hurried to buy a card about an hour before he gave it to me, as he Vivian were leaving for 2 weeks, was a horrible moment. The knowledge that you just aren't quite worth the effort.....on a day already filled with pain and anguish, and a terrible want to turn the world off, I sat doing housework, crying, as my father in law helped me.
They don't understand, and maybe I don't make it clear? Why does wanting to be made to feel special, wanting to have someone exert a little effort always come off as selfish and materialistic? What I hate most is that not having anything to hope for, never having a "happy" day, has led me to not care to do stuff for him either. And that can't be good. But these days make me sad and lonely and want to curl into a ball even further.
So bear with me if the next little while sounds like a bad goth girl blog. Lately I hurt like that little girl I can't let go of, and it's really fucking hard.
My shrink appointment yesterday was spent sobbing.
The utter depth of missing my mother really hit me this week, as did the shrink's words. She told me that I never really learned how to live, and that I've been so scared of life. I talked about how my anniversary is this month, mother's day the next, and that I never ever hope for anything good, because nothing good happens anyway. No one ever surprises me. No one ever makes me feel wanted and validated. At best, I'm briefly remembered the day before. It's only one step removed from my father having to be reminded of my birthday, and then asking me how much money it would take for me to go away.
What really got to me was the connection she helped me make-that my lack of hope in ever having someone do something good for me is linked with me hoping, and praying as a child that my mother would not die. My hope got me nothing. My mother's hope had to be crushed so that she would finally let go and end her pain. Hope only brings me pain.
And it's a terrible way to live, I know. But it's the only one I know how. Last year, on Mother's Day, when my husband hurried to buy a card about an hour before he gave it to me, as he Vivian were leaving for 2 weeks, was a horrible moment. The knowledge that you just aren't quite worth the effort.....on a day already filled with pain and anguish, and a terrible want to turn the world off, I sat doing housework, crying, as my father in law helped me.
They don't understand, and maybe I don't make it clear? Why does wanting to be made to feel special, wanting to have someone exert a little effort always come off as selfish and materialistic? What I hate most is that not having anything to hope for, never having a "happy" day, has led me to not care to do stuff for him either. And that can't be good. But these days make me sad and lonely and want to curl into a ball even further.
So bear with me if the next little while sounds like a bad goth girl blog. Lately I hurt like that little girl I can't let go of, and it's really fucking hard.
My boys' dad died 19 years ago (on my daughter's birthday) and after all these years and a happy remarriage, the pain surfaces on "special" days. It's the same for my sons.
We move on but some part of the grief lingers.
More a comment on your earlier post but it may fit here.
Sometimes I want to curl into a ball as well.
Posted by
Anonymous |
6:04 p.m.
No apologizing, Dor! You just say whatever it is that you need to say. It's your blog. That's what it's for!
And I'm so sorry this is a bad month for you. Just let us know what you need us to do to help get you through it. :)
Posted by
Anonymous |
9:39 p.m.
You go ahead and be in a grump! YOu shouldn't feel bad for it and I understand completely about wanting to feel special, see my myriad of posts on birthdays and such for validation on it if you do not recall. YOu have every right to want to feel special and desired. I don't blame you in the least. Today is the anniversary of my mother's death 8 years ago...I haven't visited her in a while....I really should bring her some flowers I think.
Posted by
Anonymous |
1:35 a.m.
It's ok to feel shitty. And you know I'm here for you to lean on, in all your shittiness. (Note: I said LEAN on. Not BEAT on. You violent person you. lol) ;-)
My bad month is March cause that's when my grandmother died. Maybe it's not as bad as a mother's dead. But to me, it was the death of my best friend. A part of me died, that day.
And now, all the family reunions break my heart. Every time.
Posted by
Anonymous |
8:47 a.m.
I have the same holiday anticipation/letdown thing. I wonder if it's a side effect of losing a parent. I can never seem to explain the visceral need for appreciation to anyone without feeling as though it's being added to some file of eccentricities or faults that I have.
I'm sorry that it causes you so much pain. It makes me feel a bit better knowing that I'm not a total freak for dreading these holidays.
Posted by
Anonymous |
1:03 a.m.