Changes

I have made some changes to this blog today. First, I have changed the background and color scheme, etc. Second, I have changed the tabs. Now the tabs are divided by subject and provide listing of relevant blog posts. Third, I have changed the “my story” tab. Now rather than just containing my huge long story, it links to each part, all of which are now published on the blog separately. You can also make comments on each individual section now, should you want to.

There are also changes I am making in my life.

While my relationship with my parents improved after I had a child (grandchildren make everything better), it is far from perfect. My parents still hold the same views on the role of adult daughters and continue to hold onto the pain I caused them when Iquestioned their beliefs,resisted their control, and latermarried against their will. The way they see it, I walked away from God and rejected his will for me, which was to remain obedient to my earthly father and heed his guidance. I can’t pretend that their pain does not hurt me as well.

I think sometimes mothers don’t realize the power they hold over their children. The truth is, my mother has the ability to put my heart through a grater. Her words have the ability to stab deep and pierce the wellspring of my tears. It hurts to have caused her so much pain, it hurts to not be the daughter she wants me to be, and it hurts to know that I can never, ever please her. The pain is very real, and while I may not feel it much day to day, it returns in earnest when I talk to her on the phone or visit home or receive a card or letter.

Furthermore, when I talk to my mother she has the ability to pull me back in space and time and make me sixteen years old again. She has the ability to take my mind down well trodden mental paths until everything she says suddenly makes sense and up is down and down is up. She can turn my brain into a pretzel. When I talk to her I sometimes feel like my brain has entered some sort of twilight zone. And then, when I hang up the phone or walk out of the room, the spell breaks and I can see straight again.

I am starting counseling this week for the first time ever. For a long time I resisted it. I don’t need counseling, I told myself. I’m not the one who is crazy. But as my friends have pointed out, there is counseling for crazy, and counseling for dealing with crazy. The truth is that I need tools for dealing with my relationship with my parents and tools for coping with the pain it causes me. I need to be able to set boundaries, but I also need to be able to sit through attempts to guilt me without feeling all of the past come flooding back.

Please don’t think I’m a basket case. I’m not. I have a wonderful life, with an awesome husband, an adorable daughter, and a promising career. It’s just that some things stay with you, and I need to learn how to deal with that. Hence my decision to give counseling a try.