Graduation

The girl is done!
She has finished highschool, and is graduating!
The past year has been challenging, since we've had to do everything virtually, but we did it! She's finished!

The Future is Almost Here

My girl turns 18 in a couple of months. She'll be coming home around then. She has big plans - college, and living on her own - that she's excited about.
Here's the thing: she wasn't able to go take her ACT because of her anxiety. How can she handle college?
I want her to, don't get me wrong. But my biggest fears are that she will relapse and really injure herself, or that her anxiety will get the better of her and she will feel like a failure.
Obviously, there isn't anything I can do about either of those things. That just makes me worry more.

I'm a little afraid of what I might find when I see her next. She hasn't confided any episodes of cutting, but I know it's so hard to stop.

Moving Out

The girl has decided to move back to her father's house.
Obviously, I have some concerns.
I'm not going to rehash the past. Go back and read earlier blog posts if you would like to refresh your memory.

I hate the idea of her leaving. I'm worried out of my mind about her. I want her to stay here with me.
Of course I do. I'm her mother. She's my first born child. I wish I could keep her sheltered forever. But I can't. And, truth be told, I wouldn't.
Because more than I want to keep her, I want her to be happy. I want her to be successful. I want her to take advantage of as many opportunities as she can.

So, no matter how I feel - and I feel so many things right now - I need to let her take this shot. I need to let go, and trust that she will communicate her needs, her feelings, and her concerns.
I need to just love her. No matter how this turns out, I need to let it happen.

I just need her to know that I'm behind her, I believe in her, and I will always fight for her, whenever she needs me to.

Facing my fears...

Apparently, the girl has been talking to her father about spending next school year with him.
He's been talking to her about taking a class with him at a community college, to help her adapt to a college environment. He says that this way she can practice with him right there. He still hasn't discussed a word of this with me. He's only talking to her about it.

When she was talking to me about it she told me she needs to start detaching from me anyway. She said she has separation issues, and this might be good for her. Those sound to me like his words, and they make me mad as hell.

I have to admit, I'm kind of crushed, on top of being angry and scared.
The girl is getting ready to graduate, and she's turning 17. She's almost an adult. I'm not ready.
Partly, I'm worried about her safety. After the incident that caused another blog to be born, I'm terrified of what might happen. What if she still doesn't feel like she can ask for help? What if she still feels pushed to the side? What if he still won't take her seriously? What if she hurts herself? I'm worried that the other teen in the house will still get away with mistreating her. I'm worried that her father won't let her be who she is, but will try to make her be what he sees as normal. How will he handle it if she freezes? Will he help her get through, or will he humiliate her? If she cuts, will he make sure she's safe? Or will he make her feel like it's a failure?

It's not just those things, though. I feel like I'm losing her. It was her and me against the world for so long, and now she's going to go live with the person who repeatedly broke her heart, broke his promises, and wasn't there when she needed him. I can't trust him to take care of her, emotionally. I know he loves her, but he doesn't want to understand what her issues are.

So here's my problem - what if they're right? Maybe she really is too attached to me. Maybe she does need to do this transition, so that she's ready to go away to college next year. Maybe I have no idea how to prep her for the next phase of her life.

I feel absolutely heartsick. I will miss her more than I've ever missed anyone. More than I want to be right though, I want her to be happy. I want her to be a success - what ever that means to her. I want her to feel confident and competent. I want her to have a good life.

Despair

I guess it's not really surprising that Mom of a Cutter would be a self-harmer, too. 

I know these things can run in families, like diabetes and high blood pressure. 

I wish you could pick which things your kids get, and which they could be exempt from. This post isn't about cutting, though. 

This mom is dealing with some health issues I wouldn't wish on anyone. For more than a week now, I have been in the worst pain of my life. It feels like hot shards of glass are inside my hips and back. This is desperate, crawling-out-of-my-skin, do-anything-to-stop-the-pain awful. If this doesn't get fixed soon, I don't even know what to do. 

What if this becomes my new normal? I don't know how anyone can live like this, long term. I just don't know ...

I Remember (trigger warning)

I had a nightmare recently, one I haven't had in quite some time. It had me thinking about this all day, and I had to get rid of it. It still affects me, after all these years. My hope is that if it's out here, it will stay out of my head.

Do you remember when we met? I was 12, and you were 22. You were getting ready to go into the army.
Do you remember the furtive groping, and the secret kisses? I was 13, and convinced I was in love with you.
Do you remember all the letters we sent? I carried them around with me. I put them in my backpack and took them to school. I was 15, and so jealous when you talked about the 16 year old girl you were friends with.
Do you remember telling me about the woman who was caught molesting a boy during that march? You were upset, because people got involved in their relationship. I was really weirded out by your reaction - but I didn't know why.
Do you remember asking me to marry you? I couldn't believe that you asked me after all those years of thinking I was in love.
Do you remember after we got married, when I was almost 19 and you were 29? I worked while you went to school.
Do you remember getting mad when I wore make up? I was getting ready for work, and you asked me who I expected to meet that I needed to wear make up for.
Do you remember holding me down and fucking me? Even if I said I was too tired? When I talked to you about it after, you would tell me it was my fault because I led you on by changing in front of you in our bedroom.
Do you remember all the times you clenched your fists and your teeth and told me how much you wanted to punch me in the face?
Do you remember giving me a hard time when I wanted to go out with my friends without you? And how you would grill me about what we did when I got home?
Do you remember being invited to go out with your friends, and refusing to go if I didn't go with you?
Do you remember buying me flowers for the first time after I told you I wanted a divorce?
Do you remember showing up at my apartment in the middle of the night to tell me you were worried about my soul?
Do you remember showing up at my apartment early in the morning to tell me my life was in danger, but you couldn't tell me why?

I remember.
I remember it all.
I remember the look of confusion on your face when I tried to explain it to you.
I remember you telling me that I would change my mind if I turned to Jesus.
I remember crying myself to sleep almost every night.
I remember staying much longer than I should have because I didn't want to admit I had made a mistake by marrying you.
I remember turning down invites from my friends, because I would have to bring you with me.
I remember being out all night with your friends - even though I was tired and had to work the next day - because it was the only way you would go.
I remember going home to my family because I was terrified of what you might do next.
I remember being underneath you and faking an orgasm because I knew you wouldn't stop until I did - and it had to coincide with yours, or you would be upset.
I remember punching a boyfriend in the face because I woke up with his hands on me. I wasn't even fully awake, I just knew I hadn't given consent and I would never let that happen to me again.
I remember.
I remember it all.

Monsters

There is a darkness in me. I used to think it was because of events in my life.  

The first time I saw evidence of it in one of my children I was devastated. I thought that I had somehow caused it, that I had tainted the child with my own darkness. 

I now realize that there is darkness in all of us. 

It's like there are monsters living in our heads. I can't remember where I read that, but it rang true to me. 

We all have them, locked down in cages in our psyches. Some people have tight control of their monsters, and if one were to ever escape they would be brought back under control by any means necessary.  Other people's monsters seem to roam freely, causing chaos and destruction where ever the person goes. 

Most of us are somewhere in the middle. Our monsters are occasionally brought out to play, then get put back after they've had some exercise. 

Those monsters - our darkest fears, our deepest hopes, our scars and wounds that never quite heal - they're part of us. They make us who we are, just as much as our public personas do.