Sharon here, opening up the computer and seeing if anyone else in T-E-C is around. (Writing to each other is the easiest way we communicate.) Sharon waits. Twiddles thumbs. Listens to a few songs….
Nope, I guess it’s just me.
This morning our oxygen levels (and energy levels) were increased, and we got things done that we couldn’t have done in the previous days, like shower. Saoirse tried to work a little, but we started feeling bad again. Now its just me, and I don’t know what to do with the work stuff. So I’m trying to sort out feelings from the last week.
Being sick sucks, and we’ve been pretty sick. Our Mom came down from Anacortes to look after us. She just went home today. And I guess I’m thankful for that. Don’t get me wrong, I love my Mom, but I have a Historical Chip on my shoulder named Why The F Didn’t You Protect Us When We Were Young. It’s hard to forgive, even though she’s stood by our sides since our 20s, and if anyone deserves forgiveness, it’s her. I know the others have forgiven her, and the kiddos practically worship her, but I still have a strained relationship with her, even if she isn’t aware of it. If I’m out, I’m don’t say much to her, or I stealth it and pretend to be one of the others.
So I’ve been doing some self-examination around this while lying here focusing on my breathing. I think a big part of it, is since I came around (which, as far as I remember, is around body age of 8 or 9), I’ve basically been System Mom. I had to be. And in the years that have followed, it’s me who comforts the kiddos through every flashback, its me who comes out when we are really hurt or sick, it’s me who tries to do self-care when I can. But I compete with Super Mom, and maybe I’m jealous of how much she’s loved and appreciated, and how much I’m… taken for granted.
And that’s obviously an issue for me, because I teared up and started to space out. Hey FW.
I should have known you’d come around. (FW is in the headspace.)
And I’m dissociating. Crap.
FW: Are you sure you want to post this? Mom will see it, cry, and feel terrible, and doesn’t deserve that. On the other hand, if you two are ever going to become close, you’re going to have to deal with this someday. And we don’t have unlimited time to deal with those issues.
Sharon: Yeah, I probably should have written this in the locked diary, but sometimes its time for things to see the light. I guess its fitting you should pop, FW. As far as I know, I popped on the scene when we were molested as a child, and male-ish caretakers suddenly went out of vogue. So I often wonder if I’m FW version 2.0.
FW: You’re your own person. You aren’t me, you aren’t your biological Mom, you are Sharon, and you are wonderful just as you are. I’m sorry you don’t get told that more often.
Sharon: OK, change of subject while I have you, council business.
FW: You’re just avoiding the issue?
Sharon: Yes. Well, and jumping into another one. It’s about the bear drawing from our bio-Dad, and if it should remain hanging in the living room. I know that LJ and Janet like the drawing, but for some of us its a connection to a man we really don’t want to have anything to do with. I don’t think we should destroy it, but I think it should find a new home, like in a closet somewhere?
FW: Easy solution, when we move, just don’t put it up.
Sharon: Yeah, but its an unknown when we’ll move, and as we get more into our story in therapy, the more the reminder of bio-father isn’t appreciated for some of us. We don’t have any reminders of any other abuser in our space, why does he get to be in the room we spend the most time in? I vote to take it down.
FW: Point taken. I also vote to take it down, and I don’t think this requires a unanimous council vote.
Sharon: Cool. (Yes folks, we really are headed by an elected council, and we really do vote… on all kinds of stuff. Yay for functional multiplicity.)
FW: So are you going to address the whole other issue in this post? Or are you going to let it hang until you and Mom can talk about it?
Sharon: I know what she’ll say. She was sick herself. She was abused as well. She’ll apologize, and she’ll mean it. And it somehow won’t be enough. I don’t know how to get past it. I’ve crawled up a flight of stairs with a broken back to get help, THAT’S what Moms do.
FW: She’s been there for us consistently for 25+ years. She’s saved us time and again. So have you. It isn’t a competition. The role of Mom is big enough for the both of you. I think the issue isn’t that she wasn’t there for us Sharon, I think the issue is you feel she hasn’t been there for you. And that’s partly because you haven’t let her. You are more than a filler for Mom-shaped situations she isn’t/wasn’t there for. You deserve a Mom too.
And I’ve lost her. Guess I hit a little too close to home. So, hello world. I’m going to go see if I can round someone else up to “drive”. (We don’t really have a “gatekeeper” alter, at least I don’t consider myself one, but maybe I kind of am.)