Anyone who knows me will tell you I really am not one to sulk, or stay down in the dumps for long. In fact, if anything I rarely give myself the time to grieve a situation. I just romp along. For example when I came to the conclusion that my first marriage had come to its natural end, I stuck a nicotine patch on my arm, set up a home office and told my ex I wanted a divorce. I did these 3 things in one week. He commented to a mutual friend that my decision to divorce was obviously a side effect to the nicotine withdrawal? Hmmmm…Nope, you are a prick and I want out?! The fact was, I knew I would smoke so much toxin into my lungs trying to manage his emotions and my own, I had to quit the fags. That was why Nicquitin became my new 24 hour friend. Sadly it did keep me awake at night as I was never a 24 hour smoker? Lesson Learned .

So I go through my divorce, started working from home and began to rebuild my life. My parents helped me with the business side of this and for that I will always be grateful.

My Mother extended the hand of support …..to my Ex as he was considered ‘weak’! Really??Ha!

My Mother states to this day that this was my darkest hour in life.

At the time, I hoped she was right as it was a living hell. I mean,  living in the same house as your Ex and arguing by text from one bedroom to the other? Coming home to find dusty gaps on shelves where he had hidden collectables! Hahaha, Don’t worry, I won the fight over custody of the Beanie Baby collection. They live in my loft. I remember one outburst where he asked if I would be happier if he ended it all and put his head in the oven? I said

‘ Give it a go love, but bear in mind it’s electric!?!Ha!’

See, I am not one to let things get me down and I can use my humour as a safety mechanism or hide behind it , whichever way you want to view it…This battling actually made me stronger, allowed me to see what I wanted in life, find my best friend- my lovely Hubby, the best life partner on earth, and as a result , be blessed by our courageous and beautiful child.

My Mum always said to me in times of sadness  ‘ Pop the bad thoughts into a box in your mind and go into a nicer room in your head’. That’s what I decided to do with the thoughts and scars left by her reaction. The memories of that shameful day sit in their own room in my head , lid tight , for now………….

Well, OK so they have had a pretty good airing this week but you know what I mean 🙂

They  will be wedged back in there when my mind clears again. This particular room inside my head is huge, but thankfully more or less empty . These thoughts sit in one corner,like old furniture under a dust sheet and cobwebs . The rest of the room is bathed in dappled sunshine streaming through a window , causing the bare wood floor to gleam yellow. Like the dusty attic room kids were always afraid of in the films. I know that one day these demon thoughts will prove too much for me to keep under their greying moth chewed dust sheet. Undoubtedly there will come a day when they will escape . When least expected as they are not always under my control. Then and only then will these issues be addressed.

I struggle with this as the issues are NOT mine, they are my Mothers? I always try to empathise, but in this instance I am unable to . Something Positive became a Negative and it will never feel as it should. I suspect and have always promised myself that If , and its a big IF , I do release them it will likely be as a result of another trauma. Maybe a death. Not sure whose. I feel its unlikely anything other than this life event would allow those covers to slip to the floor. So you see, I keep my promises. I feel there is no benefit to my Mother or myself in opening this up for further debate. Under the dust sheet they will stay.

So sadly the darkest hour of my life should have been the brightest shining star. My Journey was now a shrouded mess . Something shameful to never be discussed in my Mothers presence. Something I had excitedly tried to share with the woman I trusted most. Something I should not be feeling riddled with guilt for.

Maybe guilt over rocking the boat? Well I surrounded myself with love and shook myself . I decided to sit my bum firmly in my own little boat of love from then on …………..

For the next few months I balance duty with love and continue to support my Mother. She continues to sulk but is after all said and done still my Mother. Please don’t see me as this amazing forgiving daughter who has allowed the irrational actions of a scared Mother to change her personality. Oh no, forgiveness isn’t one of my strongest virtues. I do not however believe in holding a grudge. Pointless . My thing is more Tolerance. I told myself that for the sake of my child, my father and my own sanity I had to box clever or my life would be tainted forever.

I continued to clam every time the subject was raised and silently prayed she would get the hint and leave it alone while I healed. The funny thing about healing is that you can really work at it, it scabs over and starts to fade. Then PICK PICK PICK….its impossible to leave that scab alone isn’t it? Jesus, I tried, I really did but she was having none of it. Opening me up was her mission and she couldn’t let it drop. Her problem was she imagined in her angst ridden head that she was missing out on something. Like a gossip feeds off someone else’s life news. She felt she was out of that infernal bloody ‘Loop’ she kept on about!

Unbeknown to her, the whole sorry episode had in fact scared me into silence. I spoke to neither my Mother or my Birth Mother for quite some time. Well at least my Mother got the usual small talk. Sadly for my Birth Mother my pain was heightened even more by knowing she felt the same pain. Pain caused by my own Mother!

For this I felt guilty on my Mothers behalf! How mad is that!? True though…I was aware I turned the Bright Light of finding my BM into something Sad and wicked. She felt it and I felt it.

We continued to have many more spats , usually when she thought my child was out of earshot, but often not caring either way. On one occasion having seen me in tears at Grannies yet again, my child told her Daddy. He banned me from taking her to Grannies if it continued! Hmmmmm…that’s what you call the ‘knock on effect’ I guess.

So I had no choice but to pull rank. I rang my Mother and relayed this to her. She fell silent. I said “My child cannot be witness to this crap any more. It is having an effect on her and has to stop. You are NOT to raise this issue again. If I feel ever able to open up I will, until then its off limits”. She didn’t like it. Not one bit. But her choice was ‘Leave it Be’ or ‘Lose your Grand-daughters visits’.

And so we have a few weeks of peace, fewer visits but peace for now.

I took up Yogalates. Cried through the whole hour and a half. Silently of course. I have a problem with the silence. Makes me think about stuff. I always thought my biggest issue in yoga was farting? Not so. The quiet was my nemesis. Its hard to sniff during the meditation. I shared my story with my Yoga teacher, she was so lovely. Guess I was excusing myself for being such an emotional mess in her classes. She became quite a confidante. I really must start it up again……Very therapeutic once I got a grip of my emotions and threw my moves!

I invested time and energy into my family, my work and my dear friends. Distraction..that’s the key…an outlet to stop you dwelling on the shit..focus on the fun. And for the next few months I did exactly that…holidays, family fun and living the life I should be living …..making future plans….

When I broke the ice again with my BM we slipped right back into merry banter in regular phone calls. It is important here to avoid discussing one ‘Mother’ with the other…I did pretty well and diverted questions she might ask about my Mother’s behaviour.

It was useful that up until her recent retirement she was a Social Services Enabler. Enabling the elderly or infirm to remain in their own homes. I found discussing my Dads needs with my BM a great leveller. I also learned a lot about what was available to help him and my Mother. I passed this information on without mentioning from where it was sourced . Of course. Do I look stupid?? Ha!

I would ask if she had watched the latest Long Lost Family? She would say ‘OMG I started to but I cant cope with it, just makes me weep. Same here,  but I wanted to watch these reunions to compare. Rather like when I was told my baby would be delivered by C-Section. I revelled in the pain and pleasure of One Born Every Minute…safe in the knowledge I wouldn’t go through that!! Unfortunately (well fortunately really!) I delivered naturally myself in the end and boy did I regret watching it then! Thanks again Karma! Well she was born with a normal shaped head and all the right bits so I should be grateful really….

Anyway we made plans, my Birth Mother and I. Plans that meant we were back on the track of shared knowledge….another date was set for a visit, that Summer. This time my amazing Hubby was to meet his biological Mother in Law!:-)

Thanks for reading…I promise it will get lighter…but you have to take the rough with the smooth on every ride right?

Much love

Black Sheep

xxx

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