It's not quite the New Year yet, but it's December, and I'm ready to make my resolution for the New Year and for the rest of my life.
My mother died in 2019. I was not her primary caregiver, but I did spend a good chunk of time helping to look after her this year. I was amazed at how her tantrums could still trigger me, even though she was dying, and I was so strong, so alive in comparison. That's when I saw that yes, c-ptsd is definitely relevant in my life.
We lived on different continents. I still remember that when I decided to move away she had asked me if I really needed to go that far away to get away from her. At that time, I was taken by surprise by her statement. Of course, I was angry that she couldn't see how important this job opportunity was for me. Years later, I realized that after all, she knew a lot about me, and yes, moving away from her, from FOO, from the society that I grew up in was one of the things that saved my life.
While I was taking care of her this year, at one moment, she did tell me that if I had come back in order to repay her for all the good things she had given me, I had certainly accomplished my mission. It was not my intention to repay her for all the "good" things she had given me. I came back, primarily so that I wouldn't regret for the rest of my life. Regardless, what she said did lift off some of the guilt off my shoulders. I have always believed that I was not a good-enough daughter.
I watched her lose all her pride over the last months. I watched her become who she had always feared becoming - weak, helpless, hopeless. I didn't get to speak to her, or see her again during her last month. When I landed at the airport, she had already died. Last time I saw her was when my brother and I picked her up from the morgue. She was frozen but had a faint smile on her face. At the funeral, I saw people cry. I met people whose lives were deeply touched by her. I understood that she was not necessarily an evil person. It was just that she and I were a bad match - I was not the daughter she needed; she was not the mum I needed. Sad, but no bad intentions.
Since her death, so many things have opened up in me. I could sense my own aliveness, my joy in being alive. I could sense love overflowing. It’s as if, finally, the abuser’s gone, I will never be hurt again, I’m safe now. Of course, there are still the triggers and the flashbacks, but I’m learning to tell myself: they are only ghosts, the witch is dead, her spells have no more power over me.
So, my resolution for 2020 is to fully claim my life. I can’t blame her anymore. She has no power over me anymore. I want to be me, and live my own life, for the rest of my life.
