It's been almost a year since I've written. It's not from lack of things to say, but rather lack of time and energy.
I'm going through what I'm hoping is a growth period. While I'm hoping, let's go with it being a positive growth period.
My Dad passed away December 19 and that's given me a lot of time to deal with emotions and also try and make peace between who I was with him and who I am with my mother.
I deal horribly with emotions. Well, I react in a singular way - food. Sad, mad, tired, irritated, hurt, there's a food for that!
The day my Dad fell and broke his hip socket, the beginning of the end, I ran from work, got mother and rushed to hospital. While waiting for x-ray and ct scans, basically waiting to hear his fate, my mother made several disparaging comments about me and my appearance. It really stuck me that in this situation she was choosing to knock me down and qualify me as a person based on my appearance.
When recounting this to someone later, they said maybe she was deflecting her fears. Perhaps, but as this has been a life long pattern, I saw it differently. I acted differently too. In the past I'd pack on 20 pounds to "heal" the pain of knowing she values how I look more than who I am. Now, I know she loves me, but she makes sure I know my shortcomings. Maybe this is her way of making me the best version of myself she can, but it really has backfired. Everything she wants me to be or thinks I should be, I've fought against. Sadly it's been at my own expense.
It's a habit I'm now facing breaking and it's very hard work. Changing 40+ years of behavior is a whole new exhausting. It's not impossible thought, because I've done so much in my life that seems impossible. I've survived a horrendous car crash. I've been the care giver and watched my father waste away. Through his fight with Parkinson's I was the chauffeur to the doctor. I was the exercise partner. I was the therapist. I was the protector, the confidant, the food craving granter, personal shopper, hallucination fixer, lonely day companion, cribbage partner and sympathetic ear. It didn't matter how good I was at any of it, I just did my best to be what he needed.
Funny how two parents get two different reactions. For my Dad I would do my best and never had to question if he was proud of me. He was the example of unconditional love.
For my mother, I wouldn't bother, knowing it wouldn't be good enough and it pissed her off more that I didn't try. My whole life has been about hurting her the only way I've ever known how, by not being what she wants. Because she wants me to be skinny and dress immaculately, I've rebelled my whole life. You want skinny? Let me go binge on fast food. I look better in this? Last time you'll see me wear it.
I'm tired of all that. She's not going to change, but I have to, for ME. I don't want to be skinny, I want to be healthy. I don't want to shove food in my when my heart hurts. I don't want to wish I was a better person based on her criteria any more. I know she loves me very much in her own way, but I'm tired of playing a game to please or not please her.
Recently I saw a nurse that took care of Dad through his entire time at the home. She told me how she missed him, missed me, and we exchanged numbers because she said she'd love to tell me Dad stories. He kept them all in stitches! Before parting she hugged me and said "you know you were your Dad's everything, don't you." I opened my mouth to answer and she said "you were." She told me how often he talked about me, bragged about how his daughter took care of him, his daughter could do whatever he needed. All the times they called me it was because Dad was saying he hoped I'd come see him but wasn't able to make the call himself.
I never did anything extraordinary, I was just his daughter.
That's who I plan to be from now on, just Stanley's daughter.
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