When You Let Go of the Rope

We are taught from a young age we have to honor & cherish our parents because they are reason we have life. Our parents provide us with critical care we could not survive without. They are our first teachers, role models, guidance counselors, and cheerleaders. Sometimes however, they are the source of our first emotional scar; laying the cornerstone of a foundation that mental illness builds a home upon.

So if we are indoctrinated we must love our parents and blood family; what happens when you can’t or have to love from afar?

You don’t love them or you love from afar.

If someone causes you so much emotional distress that it alters the way your brain is supposed to function, you let go of the rope. People will tell you how horrible it is for you to distance yourself or coddle the other person in a cocoon of excuses.

Don’t listen.

Not listening is easier said than done, especially if you are easily backed into a corner. It requires a lot hard work and even more heartache to learn how not to listen to the noise. There is this concept known as bodily autonomy which means you have the fundamental right to make your own bodily decisions (this includes heart/brain) free of coercion. You and you alone.

Today I woke expecting to happy and overjoyed, it’s my partner’s birthday. He brings so much joy to my life, it is beyond words. However, it took an ugly turn.

I let go.

I had to make the decision for myself to love my mother from a distance. It feels unfair and maybe a little cruel, but I’ve realize it is what is best for me now and ultimately best for her.

I wish I could outline the complexities of the relationship between her & me, but the reality is I can’t. Everything feels hazy and I can’t really identify a source or a clear path leading up to my decision.

I’ve tangoed in and out of relationships with both of my parents. A couple months before my dad died we were working on having a peaceful relationship. Just because you let go doesn’t mean you can’t ever pick it back up–remember you have the bodily autonomy to make those decisions.

I can’t say how long the gap will be this time around. I’ve been struggling with the decision for weeks. A few months ago I took a step back from nearly everyone because my brain was cooking over easy instead scrambled, this included my mom.

However, in March my sister called me saying our mom was in a bad place and needed our help. I was doing much better so I picked up and tried to help. Emphasis on try.

One thing you should know (or hear again if you know me personally) is how much I do not want to be a mom. I knew around age 10 I didn’t want kids. I went through a brief phrase where I thought I wanted kids, but for most of my life I knew I did not want children. And in helping my mom, that is exactly what I became a mother to my mother.

The emotional association in the role reversal was hard to swallow at first, but I was working through it. The constant struggle in having open working communication is what I can’t deal with. Even now, just tapping out it on a keyboard–my blood pressure is rising. When I agreed to start helping her again, I gave her my boundaries and my expectations. All of which she agreed to and she followed–for about 2 weeks.

In the weeks that have followed I’ve been nothing but frustrated and angry. Sometimes I feel like the only way to get her to respond is to treat her the way my dad treated her. Which is absolutely a no go. He was horrendous. I never want to treat her or any other human being the way my dad behaved with her. My solution: let go and step back.

I love my mom and acknowledge she’s had a rough go, but so have I. I’ve dealt with similar traumas as she and I am doing alright. I have my share of issues, but I claim responsibility for them and work toward overcoming them. I can’t be broken and be expected to fix someone else and I feel like that is what is being asked of me.

I hope one day we can reconcile and she figures out her path, but for now I will stay right here.