My trip to New York was not what I had expected. I enjoyed moments, but the rest of the time was emotionally too much. I react to noise. Which is surprising because I am loud. I am also partially deaf in my left ear. All women on my mom's bloodline were/are. Great-Grandma Annie, Grandma Barbara, Mom, and now me. We believe with deafness comes longevity. Maybe we cannot hear all the stupidity and therefore cannot get too annoyed? Annie lived until 96, Grandma B is pushing 95?97?100? So where am I going with this?
Today I met with A's therapist because at our last meeting I was in a bad place. My role in New York was to "manage someone else's anxiety." Clearly, that was a failure waiting to happen. I can barely manage my own. I manage A's. That;s is all I can handle now. I am learning how to stop managing hers so she can manage it for herself. It is a process. We are in this together. But what I am capable of doing for A, or willing to do for A, I am not capable of doing for my mom. That makes me feel less than.
I want A to manage hers successful. Find the anchor within herself. The therapist says she is a child filled with anxiety. She was born this way. I know it is my fault, my genes that did this to her. But I want to her face this all head on, as a child so she can be the most capable adult.
Walking away is a good response. When it infuriates those that challenged you or were insulting, mean-spirited or simply trying to steal your power, that means you did the right thing. Walk away. I'm doing it. So will A.
I didn't run away from New York. I ran towards a new life in Montreal. A place where I could start fresh with my babies and not live in struggle and sadness. Where I felt wrong because I couldn't live the lifestyle that someone else chose for me. In Montreal, I'm killing the mommy-thing. Apparently, my children not only love me, but they really like me. And I like me too. Calmer.
