I have therapy tomorrow and I'm tongue-tied already and fretting about it. I can't seem to get past it. I know that once I get there, (hopefully) I will be okay, but the stress will interfere with tomorrows work. Darn.
Yesterday, I wrote a short story about my brother and then, today, my mother called and we went together to get some ice cream and talk. That's too much family stuff, too many memories (good ones) that remind me I've had to give them all up. It causes too much pain, too much sadness.
Mom showed me pictures of most of my family on Christmas Eve. They have all gotten so -- old. It's been 5 Christmases ago that I saw any of them. I called my loyal and stubborn daughter and shared with her the visit with my mother. She became quiet and her voice so soft I could barely here her speak. So, I quickly said, "Well, maybe next year." Meaning maybe next year we could be part of that happy family again.
All she said was, "Maybe," but the pain in her voice broke my heart. I feel so responsible for how she feels. She misses them all so bad but won't have anything to do with them unless they apologize to me. I'm not holding out for an apology, I expect something more. I want them to respect me, my privacy, my boundaries. It will never happen and I know that. I don't know what to do.