Going home again...not easy.

I've been on Long Island for 6 days.  Yesterday, it got difficult.  There were things going on that I did not want to see or admit to...my mother's behavior.  It's so cliche that I don't even want to write about it.

Several things happened yesterday that I am not sure that I would have even noticed except my 16 year old son was with me and it was so apparent not even I could deny it.

The biggest part of this was the memory of how my life was when I was growing up.  By last night I kept thinking "How did I ever survive living like this?"

I couldn't sleep.  By 2am I was all wound up.  My head was wide awake.

The main feeling I had was shock.  Is this really what she does?  What do I normally do...ignore her?

I didn't wnat to feel what I was feeling.  I didn't want to know what I knew.

I laid on the couch in the dark just letting the truth wash over me.   I promised myself I would go for a run in the morning.  I finally drifted off around 3am.

I woke up around 8 and headed out to run.  It is unusually cold here, about 20 degrees cooler.  It's cloudy and damp.  I ran anyway.   It felt good.

I did my little mantras as I ran.  I spoke to myself aloud "Hey you...I choose to live in peace today, to be happy."  It helped.

I've been with my mother all day.  It's much better than yesterday.  She is much less gloomy and passive-agressive.  

I am handling it like I did yesterday...by asking myself in difficult  situations 'Where is the peace here?"

My son was very surprised at how calm I was yesterday, especially since it was my birthday.

My mother often gives mixed messages.  She'll tell me how much she loves me and then treat me poorly.  It's never clear cut, she acts it out.  My son asked me several times yesterday "What is wrong with Nannie?"  I smiled and said "Nothing, this is what she does sometimes."

I don't think she is conscious of it.  I told my son that too.

The hard part for me was last night after she and my son were asleep.  It hit me then, this trip down memory lane.  My difficult childhood was alive and well last night...and it scared the shit out of me.

I knew that things were different.  I am not 8 any more.  I handled yesterday with grace.  I didn't lost myself.  But it also took a toll on me.

Running was a big help.  It 'my thing'.  I've been happy today.  I am not going to NOT be happy because she is not.  We are not the same person.  Most importantly, I don't have to be LESS than to make her, or anyone else, feel oaky about themselves.

I am 48, not 75.  I can run 2 miles, she doesn't.  I eat organic food.  Who I am and what I do are OKAY.  Loving someone doesn't mean you deny who you are so they feel better.  That is insane.  THAT is how I spent my the first 20 years of my life.  The next 20 were spent doing that with my husband.

No more.

Love doesn't mean being nobody.  Love doesn't mean making yourself smaller.

 Love today means truth.   I can see the truth and let it be.

Being.   :)