I wrote this about two weeks ago. I just couldn’t get myself to press “Publish” on this one while I was in the midst of all the pain. Now that I’m feeling a bit better, I decided to share.
Some days the pain and grief of having my children decide they want nothing whatsoever to do with me is just so overwhelming. I can’t cry enough to get all cried out. The future seems so bleak and empty. I never know when these bouts of absolute overwhelming grief will hit.
But today’s one of those days.
Today I feel like my chest is going to collapse under the pressure of my broken heart. How can my eyes not be dry from all the crying? Where do all these tears even come from? I’m trying to drink lots of water today so I don’t become dehydrated on top of everything else.
Oh, god, it hurts.
My children were the loves of my life. And I don’t want to live a life where they hate me. It’s not like they’re just off living their own lives and forgetting to call home regularly. They have disowned me. Refuse communication of any sort. There is no room for healing because there is no communication allowed. You can’t even begin to rebuild a relationship when you aren’t able to have even the tiniest rudimentary communication.
They haven’t just moved on with their lives. They hate me. I’m not fully sure why. The last time I saw any of them face-to-face, there was a heated conversation based on a misunderstanding. My oldest daughter finally said that she thought we all needed to take a couple of days to calm down and then we could continue the conversation when everyone was feeling better and less angry. That sounded very reasonable and wise. A couple of days, you say? Well, that was nearly six months ago now. Whenever I’ve asked if we can get together and begin the conversation again, all I’m told is, “We’re not ready for that.”
They have ignored all my overtures. Refused to acknowledge when I reach out to them. And it’s not like I’ve been obsessively trying to connect with them. I’m talking about maybe once every two weeks just letting them know I love them and I’m still here waiting to talk about what’s happening.
I had to take a break in middle of writing this post because I tried to find my counselor’s phone number. This past December after the horrendous holidays that I spent alone and ignored, I spent about a week in the hospital on suicide watch. The way I was feeling this evening was bordering on how badly I was feeling that day when I admitted myself to the care of others to keep me safe from myself.
I don’t ever want to feel like I did that day.