I know we all have baggage. Some more than others. Some less than others.
I have closets crammed deep and to the top, a storage unit full, and an 18-wheeler truck full of my baggage that follows me wherever I go.
Last night my husband did something that triggered me beyond reasoning. He was in the wrong and of course he apologized but this was after nearly an hour of my screaming and even tears.
Yes, I cried.
I got a hold of myself only when he matched my pitch and told me,
I am not your parents... I am not him... breathe and look me in the eyes...
Pressed into a corner of the room, it was then that I came back to reality. Suddenly he didn't look like my father anymore and his words didn't sound like my mother's searing rage.
He told me late last night, after we went to bed, in the dark so that he didn't have to see the hurt on my face, that he hadn't fully realized just how damaged I was until this episode. His words cut me to the bone because they were true.
I am damaged and on the off chance that a closet door is opened just a little too far, that baggage tumbles out crushing whomever is standing in the way. It is times like these that I feel so badly for my family. They did nothing wrong yet they are getting trampled by my past. Although not as bad, this is my mother all over again. Her past knocked me over flattened me. Damaged me and smothered me under her own musty baggage.
I can't be her. I just can't. It is not fair to my family and it is times like last night that I wonder what the fuck I was thinking when I started playing house.
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Hello darkness my old friend,
4 months ago
12 comments:
Not long after I married my current husband...I was very upset and he calmly looked me in the face and said, "I am not that other person, I have never hurt you, and I am not going to do those kinds of things." He is not perfect, but what he said was true and a huge reality check for me. I was allowing my baggage to dominate our lives and control attitudes.
andrea
My baggage is that my parents were generous and kind and civil. My expectations of finding the same in my husband have been disappointed. I have been raging inside myself for days now, since he said an unreasonable word or two last week. I feel stupid and wonder how I so deceived myself and yet I go on. I have no profound conclusion. Your baggage is much heavier, for sure, but none of us are stable and reasonable all the time. Some of us have a lot less excuse than you and a lot less to work with in the husband department. Cut yourself some slack.
When my kids were little I was often angry. At what exactly, I don't know, but sometimes it got bigger than me and spilled over onto them. I remember realizing when my eldest son was about 10 that he no longer looked me in the eye and it struck me then that if I didn't make some better behaviour decisions I would lose his trust forever.
I still wasn't a perfect mother after that, still shouted, still did and said things that I cringed at later - at the time, even - but I tried to be the best I could. It often sounds like a convenient excuse - 'she did the best she could' - but it's all any of us can do.
Your daughter doesn't have a perfect mother, either. None of us do, or are ourselves. Yes, you are damaged in ways that I can't begin to understand, but you have so much on your side that many others in your position might not. Intelligence, insight, motivation, love, help, and a deep desire to do the right thing for your child.
There will always be days when you don't feel very good about your mothering, or partnering, but in that you are not alone. Forgive yourself. You're human, Jennifer.
Andrea, I am glad that you were able to see the difference between the past and the present. I certainly sounds like you have a good husband. You and I are both blessed.
ER, I can see the pain in your words and I am so sorry for what you are going through. As far as I'm concerned, baggage is baggage and I don't ever want anyone to feel like their pain and struggle is less compared to mine. We all hurt and we all should help hold each other up in those low times. Hang in there...
Deborah, forgiving myself... that's the hard part for sure. I'm a perfectionist so this relationship and life type stuff is hard for me. ;) Thank you for sharing your own experiences with anger; not a lot of people will do that out of fear of being judged. As always, thank you for reading and being here.
Shattered my friend--I want to give you such a big (((((hug))))) right now. So many times, I have visited your blog and completely related to what you wrote about. I have had almost the exact same experience you had with your husband with mine--but this was quite a few years ago--before we were married. He said the same thing to me that your husband said to you, "I am not your parents--I am not your first husband . . . "
I used to purposely try to sabotage my relationships I think--I wanted to end them on my terms, I guess. It takes me continual work to not do that to myself.
Take care of yourself, my friend--and remember, we are all just struggling to do the best we can. You've overcome a lot--please don't be so hard on yourself.
Melinda
Melinda, it's nice to know I'm not alone. I'm sorry that you can understand but it does help me. My relationship with my husband is one of the few relationships I have not succeeded at sabotaging. Believe me, I try to sabotage just about everything; some people are just stubborn and won't go away. I guess that's love...
I've been lingering at a low the past few days but I'm trying.
My minister father and minister's wife mother used to say the verse all the time, from the Old Testament I think, something about the sins of the fathers are visited unto the 7th generation. It sucks.
But I'm convinced we can break those cycles, absolutely convinced. Thank GOD, thank god, thank god you had a family, because you are breaking the cycle in the second generation. Even though it didn't feel like it when you let that little seed out with your husband. He'll live. He's helping. He loves you. Your daughter is helping too. You're growing a new orchard of new trees with new fruit. You started it as soon as you faced the filth of your father and mother and decided you are clean. You are clean, you are clean, you are clean, my dear dear dear woman.
Ruth, if anything else, I needed to hear and repeat your last sentence. It brought tears to my eyes. Thank you so much.
YOU ARE NOT HER. You are not sand, you are a rock, a beautiful gem, becoming a diamond. Never doubt this: your choice to heal separates you from being in even the same category of categories of that bitch. I am coming across very intense because i have to scream this truth at myself very often. It is true what was said above, you are clean--and not the same as her or what they tried to make you to be. WE ARE NOT WHO THEY SAID WE WERE.
Ang, thank you for the reminder. You are very right; we are not who they said we were. That is worth repeating or as you say, even screaming.
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