The conflict and emotion of the last two weeks have left me altered.
Shaky, questioning, hurt, angered and teary. The other physical manifestations of this – the permanent pit in the stomach, the feeling I could puke at any moment, the poor sleep, the night sweats – will, I know, pass as more time comes between the events.
The irony of all this is that I am feeling that way not from what transpired between me and mum – we have worked and are working on that. As we always have. As we always will.
The reality for me, Chef and the boys is about to change radically and we are excited – with a decent serve of fear and trepidation – thrown in for good measure.
But it is the action going on the periphery that has shaken me. Of course I should not be talking about this here because it is a family matter and this is making it public. But then this is where I’ve always (at least for the last 8 years or so) talked about how I feel so who the fuck knows.
There’s two prongs to this and yes, by expressing my hurt, frustration and concern about someone I love and how to communicate with them I totally ‘put it out there’. But in the past when I’ve done that I have had positivity in advice and reassurance and suggestion. So I’m guessing that those who thought what a cow/idiot/stubborn/incapable of self reflection/mean/selfish/ungrateful person just kept it to themselves.
So the first blow to my foundations was that people I thought knew me read a post and immediately saw the bad in me. The second was the realisation that being related to someone doesn’t mean you know each other at all. Or perhaps that our opinions are set at such a time that is where they stay. So irrespective of life and how all of its trevails alter you, in their mind you are still the way you were when they opinion of you was set.
A friend said to me this week that relationships have seasons – that we all expect it to always be Spring and Summer but we must also go through Winter and Autumn times for relationships to have true depth and meaning.
I like that.