Sometimes there are those things that you can’t let go of. Past events, things you did, things someone said, moments in time that you wish had never happened or that had gone differently. Things you know that you should let go of, that you need to drop, that it’s time to move on from. Learn from your mistakes and then push forward. And yet you can’t, you keep dwelling on them, you think they’re gone and that you’ve healed, that they don’t bother you anymore and then something happens and you realize that not much has really changed. My professor at school looks so much like someone I used to know, someone I don’t really want to dwell on, and every time I look at him I feel… weird. There’s not any other way to describe it, it’s just this edgy, intangible weirdness, and I end up back in my dorm room, back in college, back in these moments that I wish had gone differently, that I wish hadn’t occurred – really, that I wish I could just move on from. I keep reminding myself that past events shape who we are, that I think I am pretty fucking cool now in so many ways, that I wouldn’t be who I am now if I hadn’t done things I did then, that they don’t matter in the grand scheme of my life. And it’s not like I’m oh-woe-is-meing, I’m not feeling sorry for myself or getting all depressed, I’m just finding myself thinking about this stuff and it won’t go out of my head. Maybe I’m just re-working through it, fixing the stuff I didn’t end up fixing in therapy before? Maybe it’s just a phase my brain needs to go through? Maybe I just need to finish this class and not have that gentle poking finger of “who does that face remind you of?”…
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My son stopped calling me “Mommy” recently. I noticed it over the past few weeks, that slowly I have morphed into “Mom”, so gradually that I don’t think anyone noticed the change until it had already happened. I’m surprisingly okay with it, considering how freaked out I can get about so much of him growing up. I’m Mom now, I can deal with that. I actually kind of like it, sort of. Especially because I still get snuggles and kisses and all that “Mommy” type stuff that he hasn’t outgrown.
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E told me he loved me again yesterday. I’ve been feeling that vibe from him lately but not pushing it, letting him come to the conclusion at his own pace, and finally he said it. I feel so utterly relieved and yet so unsurprised, because it’s been a while coming to the words – weeks of him leaning over to hug me, snuggling up together on the couch, kind words exchanged. It still feels so tender and new, though, like when you are first in a relationship and everything is fragile, the balance is so precarious from that first startling revelation that you love each other, that you are opening yourselves up to each other. I didn’t think that you got that twice in one relationship, and it’s both lovely and frightening to realize that this is a feeling that can happen more than once with the same person.
Filed under: all about me me me, family, husband, mommy stuff
That first portion of this post is a mighty good one to submit to IB. Do it. You’ve had one on there before…you can do it again!
I seriously know what you mean about skin tone in the bathroom. I took one recently that really makes my usually hidden green eyes pop, but makes my skin completely yellow like that scary guy in Sin City. Blech.
That is a weird feeling when people remind you of things and then the things remind you of how you were and…yes, it is just weird. I’ve had that happen before, and it’s not anything but a thinking thing, and there is no way to describe it but weird.
Good luck with E.
What a great post. It was like you were speaking right to me. I spent two years in therapy after my youngest moved out of the house but it did nothing for me. It wasn’t until my sister pointed me to http://www.YourDailySupport.com that I started to realize that all of these feelings – the anxiety, fear, borderline depression – they’re all natural. Just my two cents.
Pat
i worry about my princess growing up all the time… i feel a pang when she calls me mommy and not mama.
i’m so happy for you that you have a positive step forward.
I’m impressed. My oldest, a girl, is only 7. She’s so big, I can’t get over it.
For me, it seemed that since my first continuous memories of my parents began when I was around 6, that everything before that was kind of free, because she wasn’t going to remember it anyway. Now, though, I’m on the clock, because these memories will stay with her.
I’m definitely not ready for how fast she’s growing up.