Whew!
We’ve been running around all weekend. The busier we are, the easier it is to avoid the phone, to not think about Monday, to pretend that life is normal. We are practicing the art of distraction. Damn. We are good at distractions.
Will walked over to me midday yesterday. He was fidgety, blinking, pacing and unable to focus. I took one look at him and I knew what was churning in his brain. He and I are on the same frequency. I turned my chair from the computer, to face him, and I didn’t say a word. He looked at me with these huge, pleading brown eyes and said, “Mom. I’ve got to get out of here. I can’t quit thinking about dad. I’ve got to get myself busy.” Just then Jenny chimed in with, “Mom. If the phone rings, I’m not here.”
So we took off. We’ve been going and coming and visiting and moving and avoiding.
I have to collect my thoughts by tomorrow.
Here’s what scares me.
What if I’m the problem? What if he is a great example of a good dad? What if my vision is clouded and the counselor says, “Whoa, Lady. You’ve poisoned your kids. You are the mess. You can’t protect them from their dad. They need to be protected from you.”
What if I am the problem?
The universe sent a memo to all the angels that make the rounds by our house. They’ve all been working overtime the last few days. I’ve gotten the calls, the emails, the comments, the reinforcements and the prayers. They’ve been doing their best to remind me of my courage and strength. They’ve also taken turns reminding me that I’m a good mom. (Thank you, all of you.)
And another angel called the night before last. He said, “Get to the appointment early. After you park your car, sit for a minute. Collect your thoughts, and say a prayer. Say a prayer to open yourself up to whatever this two hour session presents. It may be painful, but it is happening for a reason.”
I am writing my notes. I am prepared. I am 98 percent confident that I am a good mom. I have tried to foster a healthy relationship between my kids and their dad.
But I also know that it is important for me to empty my cup. I need to be open to the possibility of a new approach to relating to their dad.
So with a stiff spine, an empty cup, and my NPD antennae I will go to this appointment. I will go for my kids.
But.
What if I am the problem?
Tags: child of narcissist, divorce, life, narcissism, narcissist behavior, narcissistic behavior, NPD, proactive, survive
You’re NOT. None of us is perfect. There are always ways to do things better, and we need to be open to those ways. That said, you are not the problem. If there are better ways for the kids to relate to their dad, maybe this counselor can help all of you find those ways. In the meantime, say it with me: Jesse is a good mom … Jesse is a good mom … Jesse is a good mom.
Have your notes ready. Remember – concrete, observable examples.
The angel who suggested you open yourself up to whatever this session has to offer is dead right. Painful or not, there’s a reason for all of this.
You’re NOT the problem, you lunatic! Breathe…
The truth that you speak shines VERY clearly: about the way you parent your kids, about the way Mark (non)relates to his kids, the reactions the kids have to his visits and how exhausted everyone is trying to pussy foot around his feelings. You speak a high truth, and people with ears can hear and do acknowledge you.
The thing that makes me know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you are a brilliant, loving spirit is this:
“What if I am the problem?”
Egomaniacs never open themselves up to this type of introspection. There is always more than enough blame to spread around on everyone and everything else.
The very fact that you can ask this question when you feel your world may come crashing down around you proves that you are aware and conscious and human.
Your kind of human always tries to do better than she did before.
And you are. Every day.
I love the suggestion that your friend gave about arriving early for the appointment. I recommend about 30 minutes. Y’all sit in the car and pray, meditate or sing silly songs. Get centered and focused and when you go in, as mom, just be professional. Ask questions. Bring up observations. Pretend this is a science experiment, and you are observing the chemical reactions of therapist in her environment.
Trust your intuition. You are ready.
Pat, Susan and Donna;
You must know that I needed to hear these things. I’m putting my pride aside and asking for support and comfort and you guys came through.
I can deliver hugs to Pat and Susan locally. Donna, I’ll find you in Michigan.
Thank you isn’t enough.
Love you guys.
Oh Dear Child… YOU are the grace, the love, the wisdom, the power for those children of yours… YOU are NOT the problem… YOU have given them wings to fly, he was the brick in their shoes, the cement on their souls.
Wish I could be with you tomorrow. Hang in there…
xoxoxo
Annie,
I just had an epipha-me! If I get desperate, I could show these kind words to the counselor.
I WILL NOT get desperate.
I have a spine.
Wine tomorrow night? ;)
Sure wish I could be there to hold your hand, and to remind you that you are awesome. Your kids know it. Your family. Your friends. We KNOW. Hopefully the counselor will see the truth. I am almost positive that she will. You will do your best. That is all you can do. No matter what, you are still a wonderful mama to your children. They KNOW. And in the end, that is really the only important thing. No one can change the truth. In your heart, you know that you are not the “problem”. Don’t let those flickers of fear get you down. Have courage. You are wonderful, and we love you, support you, and believe in you.
You are NOT the problem. He is NOT a great example of a good dad! You’ve seen enough of those to know what they look like. And if you want to know what a good mom looks like, look in the mirror. I’ll be thinking of you all day.
Phyllis and Kate,
Thanks for your words of support. I’ve been visualizing my spine all morning, and reminding myself to stand straight.
But the other visualization I have is this empowering collection of friends that gently remind me to stand tall, each time I start to slouch.
Even if you aren’t with me physically, I can feel you all reminding me to stand tall.
Love you,
f.u.n. (finger under nose) ;)
F.U.N. – I love it… If you are in need of wine, woman… I can hook you up! How about my place – kids can hit the trampoline?
I am SO envious! I want to move to Montana!!
:)