This year feels like it has been only monsters. My older brother committed suicide. My husband was made redundant in February and hasn't found a job. My daughter has not been chosen for anything - exchange, peer support, school drama production - that she applied for. My son did badly in his final exams and has no plans for the future.
Is it my fault? I try to work out what I have done or not done. Could I have been a better sister/wife/mother/person and stopped these things from happening? Probably not. Which doesn't really help.
Instead, I have done the only things I could. Flown to the US for a funeral. Got a full-time job that I hate and given up the thing I love, teaching. Tried to be supportive of my kids.
I know I have plenty to be grateful for, but I am worn out.
Gifts of the Season
3 days ago
3 comments:
Oh Tiffany, I'm so very sorry about your brother, above all, and what an annus horribilis. No way, of course, that it's your fault, but I can imagine all those non-helpful inner voices chorusing their remonstrations.
Very pleased to see you back here, despite your bad news -- I've wondered how you're doing, and now can see why you haven't had time to blog. We've been "friends" here for many years now (why I know none of the universe's teeth-kicking in your family's direction is because you didn't do enough -- not possible!).
Sending you as much strength and as many wishes for a turnaround in 2016 as I can fit into this cyberspace portal. hugs to you. . .
Thanks, Mater. I feel guilty for complaining about my life, when so many people have it so much worse ... I'm trying very hard to find and focus on the positives, but sometimes finding it difficult.
I don't see your post as complaining, honestly. Complaining suggests much smaller injuries than you've suffered. Would it be trite of me to say you might need to be kind to yourself and you might let yourself cry out a bit . . . it's always possible to find someone who has it worse than we do, but maybe there's some small solidarity with those others in acknowledging our own pain? Take care of yourself. . .
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