Another ANT that came up over the weekend. Trigger was feeling guilty at not being with Mum and Dad this weekend for Father's Day. Which led to the feeling that I am a disappointment to them, that I will never make up for the disappointment I put them through when I was seventeen, having my *nervous breakdowns*.
My bestie told me that the whole thing of not being there for the parents was irrational, they wouldn't expect their adult children to live in their pockets forever. That I am making my own life, and it is just the case that it is over the other side of the continent. And that I myself had said earlier in the conversation that I don't put much store in the whole Mother's or Father's Day schtick - birthdays and Christmas far more important.
Which are all valid points.
As to the disappointing them thing, why am I still harking back to my lowest point almost twenty years ago, when, on my first trip to Europe a few years later, the parentals said they were so proud of me turning my life around. Why don't I always remember that instead? Especially as the card they got me for that trip has been an emotional lodestone I have kept close for all these years after.
No, I probably didn't disappoint them, I surely scared and terrified them at that time. But they have been proud of me at least once since my first onset of depression, and probably a few more times as well.
They are happy with me. That I seem to want to stay here five hours flight time away from them, even with all the ups and downs there have been. As long as I keep in touch, and visit from time to time, I will likely never disappoint, scare or terrify them ever again.
Maybe the most rational and logical take on that ANT is that I miss them. Which will be sorted by next month's visit.
Oh, and also one day I should have a talk with my parents, one that I have been putting off for decades. And ask them the stuff I am constantly asking her, the do you love, are you proud and the rest.
My bestie told me that the whole thing of not being there for the parents was irrational, they wouldn't expect their adult children to live in their pockets forever. That I am making my own life, and it is just the case that it is over the other side of the continent. And that I myself had said earlier in the conversation that I don't put much store in the whole Mother's or Father's Day schtick - birthdays and Christmas far more important.
Which are all valid points.
As to the disappointing them thing, why am I still harking back to my lowest point almost twenty years ago, when, on my first trip to Europe a few years later, the parentals said they were so proud of me turning my life around. Why don't I always remember that instead? Especially as the card they got me for that trip has been an emotional lodestone I have kept close for all these years after.
No, I probably didn't disappoint them, I surely scared and terrified them at that time. But they have been proud of me at least once since my first onset of depression, and probably a few more times as well.
They are happy with me. That I seem to want to stay here five hours flight time away from them, even with all the ups and downs there have been. As long as I keep in touch, and visit from time to time, I will likely never disappoint, scare or terrify them ever again.
Maybe the most rational and logical take on that ANT is that I miss them. Which will be sorted by next month's visit.
Oh, and also one day I should have a talk with my parents, one that I have been putting off for decades. And ask them the stuff I am constantly asking her, the do you love, are you proud and the rest.
I'm so very proud of you for tackling this one. :-)
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