tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-703231883440613355.post3307846450950662539..comments2014-05-05T07:40:26.501-06:00Comments on Reality Writes: Things change and stay the sameKristinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09988190251156621315noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-703231883440613355.post-44918713710837588942009-08-29T22:19:04.638-06:002009-08-29T22:19:04.638-06:00There is so much in your piece about your mother t...There is so much in your piece about your mother that I can relate with. The tip-toeing around her moods, the questioning of reality, the unfulfilled emotional well that is left by being the daughter of a mentally ill mother. My mother suffered from depression my entire childhood. I have memories of her shrieking at my father when I was 4, crying when she picked me up from kindergarten when I was 5, and curled up on the couch weeping when I was 6? 7?. Then, when she was feeling better she would overcompensate; indulging my brother and I with elaborate christmases, me with shopping trips, mother/daughter weekends; filling up the reservoir for the next crash. <br />The emotional behaviors I have learned from growing up in my mother's world have been at times impossible to unlearn. But she is still here and we are still working on it. Recently I became angry when, in a moment of desperation upon losing my job and meeting my mortgages (yes I have 2) I suggested that my daughter and I might have to move onto her property until I could get stabilized financially again. Because I was vulnerable, I asked her not to tell her husband, that I just needed the conversation to be between us. She balked and said how could I not include him when I am asking to move in with them? Suddenly I was caught in her emotional web. Instead of exploding I was able to reach down articulate the feeling she had triggered: that she had just taken the most sensitive and desperate piece of our conversation and shoved it back down my throat. She actually seemed to acknowledge it, apologized and we both agreed that although difficult, our conversation ended up being an important one.Kai Elizabethhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08717535383738645673noreply@blogger.com