Losing someone is difficult enough on its own merit. Losing a relationship has its own emotional toll especially for an empath like me. Nevertheless, the grieving process is more or less the same.
I've been denying the fact that my relationship with my mother is gone for good. It's been obvious since 2002 that this relationship will never exist in real-time. There's so much pain involved - to a point of detriment to my health and well-being. The truth hurts.
The turning point of my life is to focus on my daughter. I'm glad it has begun its repair. I'm going to keep it that way. I'd rather let my daughter see a strong, determined, independent woman she can rely on than letting her see me wallow in a downward spiral of despair and hopelessness.
My mother has always told me to lead by example. That's what I'm going to continue doing. I am grateful for all the things she taught me. I don't have to depend on anyone for anything else. I've always been taught to think for myself and solve my own problems. I am thankful for my friends to make me realize that it takes courage to ask for help when the problem is bigger than I can handle on my own. Trust me - I've been there alone by myself solving a problem far more than I could ever handle. I was broken. I didn't want to go anywhere or do anything. I just wanted to die then.
I don't think about committing suicide often. The thought comes up every once in a while. Just seeing my daughter gives me hope. Whenever I see her, I know that I did something good. She is the reason why I still live and breathe. I do hope when she's out on her own, that she will be as resilient as I am. I have told her often: "Mistakes happen. Learn from it. Don't do it again. If it happens again, do something else different so it never happens anymore."
I am grateful that my relationship with my daughter is now repaired. I just need to remind myself to maintain that relationship. The divorce hit her harder than it hit me. It took her a long time to recover from that break-up. She's grateful that both her biological parents are sensible and reasonable people. She adores her step-father. She wants to be just like him. God has been so good to my family. I give God all the glory for allowing such a wonderful kindred-ship between my family and my daughter's father.
The last thing I need is a mother to ruin all of it. I love her a lot - not because of the fact that she's my mother; it's because she needs it. She needed it long before I was ever born. Everything else that happened between us doesn't matter anymore. I have long forgiven those grievances. I just want her to know that my love for her is as true as it ever was when she held me in her hands. It hurts me a lot that our current relationship will never ever come to that.
All I ever wanted is for her to accept me for who I am. My only lament is that she needs to stop hurting me. That's not a lot to ask. Since it's been a difficult task for her to stop, I will make it stop. I haven't spoken (initiated a call) to her since June 2016. It's one thing to be upset with a child, but to tell a child: "I wish you have never been born," is damning not only oneself but the child as well.
That emotional turmoil took a heavy toll on me. It was then when I was diagnosed with clinical depression. Something I thought would never happen to me. I have limited my communications with her for a reason since then. As much as I want our relationship to reconcile, there's a part in me that doesn't want it anymore. I'm tired. I've carried this burden for far too long. I'm pretty sure the feeling is mutual.
I'm happy to hear she's doing well in her life. She has even made an honorable mention about me being a wonderful daughter I was on her Facebook post. If you're suspecting that I'm suspicious about the sentiment, it is well justified for a reason.
Needless to say, regardless of where my relationship with my mother will be in the future, I have to finally accept the fact that she will continue to treat me as if I never grew up at all.
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