Still Moving Forward. Barely but doing it.
I took a step back from posting in my blog because I felt like everyone was reading more things posted directly to my Facebook.
I realized; I am not writing for everyone else.
Yes, I write so people can learn that they are valued, so I can be a voice for those who feel as If they can’t use theirs, and overall, just to share my experiences with someone who may feel like they are alone.
But in truth, I write for me. I write so I can create change with bad situations, I write so I can “fill my cup” with gratitude that I am still living today, to even have the ability to write & to share at all.
I will still try and share my little moments of reflection on my Facebook page, but my blog is for me. So, I can’t give that up.
With that being said, life is fucking hard right now. I am playing a constant game of teeter totter on what I can only explain as my seesaw of life. As much as my life is still moving in a constant forward direction, I am getting there in the most inconvenient way possible. Like walking up a mountain through a trail in the woods that is winding. There are rocks in the way I can’t just step over but rather struggle to climb over, limbs over running streams that I need to balance myself on, tip toeing to the other side as to prevent myself from falling in, yet with all of these obstacles in my way, I am still traveling forward, up the mountain.
So, Let’s talk about it.
Obviously, we all know my mom is dead.
With her death came the halting reality that I wouldn’t have another mom to take her place.
Things that moms were supposed to do for their adult children I would never have. (Some of them I didn’t even have to begin with, but I still feel like I’m missing out on them).
No mom to take my kids when I needed a break, no mom to support my decisions as my child’s parent and to reassure me that I’m doing the best I can, no mom to spoil her grand kids on birthdays and Christmas, no mom to call and vent my frustration too, no mom to help pick me up when I felt like I was failing. My mom had all of this and more in my grandmother. Constant support raising my brother and me. A shoulder when she needed it, babysitters whenever life got hard and she was left without a plan b (no pun intended), she had the mom I wish I had had.
But I don’t. Because mine is dead.
Now, I can’t help but feel like no one else sees the advantage they have by having a mom like my grandmother. No one sees that although I am moving forward. Not having that support will always be something that holds me back. Thankfully, I have my grandmother who can help out, but not without the guilt of asking her, not without feeling like she would rather do anything else in the world rather than help me with my kids. But it’s a double-edged sword, isn’t it? As much as I need my families help with my kids, as much as I need the reliability of someone there for me and for them, all the while knowing that she shouldn’t be the one responsible, she shouldn’t have to help me after helping to raise all of her kids-kids, she shouldn’t have to be the one to take my one year old when daycare is closed and I have to work. She is old now; she did her part.
But she does. Because my mom is dead.
Recently, I have found myself in one of those double-edged sword kinds of situations. The kind that doesn’t have a right forever answer, only a right now answer. One of those things that you need to do at the spur of a moment and figure out the rest later. One of those things that having a mom would come in clutch for, because you know that if she were here, she would tell you “Don’t listen to what they say, advocate for your child and just do the best you can, you’re doing the right thing.” But instead, I have “this is a horrible idea” “your being manipulated” “he’s doing this on purpose” “he’s not very bright, so I don’t think this is going to work long term” “you need to find an alternative”.
Right now, when I am terrified that I’m doing something wrong.
Right now, when I am terrified that my child is going to feel this way forever.
Right now, when I feel like I have already failed him.
Right now when I feel as if my entire goal of making my children feel safe and protected has crumbled around me.
Right now when I am starting my bachelors program, when I am working full time, when I am taking care of my three children the best that I can.
Right now when I needed to pull my son out of public school to keep him safe, right now when I need to find a way to homeschool full time to protect the mental health of my child, is when I should have a mom.
I should be reassured that I am doing what’s best.
I should be hearing “we support your decision and are here to help”.
I should be hearing, “this sucks I know, but you will figure it out “
The same things I hope my mom would be telling me right now.
Life is a fucking whirlwind I’m telling you. A whirlwind of feeling everything and nothing all at once. A whirlwind of ups and downs and challenges that will test your ability to continue in growth, to continue to learn, and to hold space for those you don’t agree with and those you don’t understand.
I was told recently that I am the best advocator for my children, and you know what…. I SURE THE HELL AM.
Guess who taught me how to do that….
My mom.