Right now, that train is probably 200 feet from me and I'm still standing in the middle of the tracks, playing metaphorical chicken with an object that could ruin my life.
That is how I felt tonight when my mom called me. I was on my way home from Sunday dinner at her house and when I saw her name pop up on my cell phone screen, I knew why she was calling.
Because I was distant at dinner. I was spending my time on Facebook or texting my friends. I was disconnected from the people I love that were physically all around me.
This disconnection didn't start tonight. It's been happening slowly for months. My insecurities from childhood and marriage seem to be consuming me and I don't know how to make the change.
As a child who needed extra love and attention, I never felt fully loved or care for. I was always a problem and I was often reprimanded for things that didn't make sense to me.
As a teenager, I finally came clean about my eating disorder and the very first thing I remember my dad saying to me was, "You know you'll never have a flat stomach, no matter how much weight you lose. It's just our genetics."
As an almost engaged 19 year old, I was listening through the door when my almost fiance asked my dad if he could marry me. I then got to listen as my very own father warned my fiance about my anger and stubborness and how hard it would be to be married to someone like me.
Then as a newly abandoned wife, I was super privileged to receive phone calls and non-supportive talks from both of my parents about how it was imperative that I try hard to bring my lost husband back to his family.
I think it was around this time that I lost it. I started to wonder if they thought I had been the reason he left. I started to worry about who they really wanted to stay loyal to. I stopped trusting them.
I wasn't as distant in the beginning because I relied on them so much but as I've learned more independence, I've subconciously distanced myself from them. I can see it and so can they. My mom has commented on this before and I've assured her that nothing is wrong because I fear telling her the truth.
Not many times has the truth actually 'set me free' when it comes to my relationship with my parents. I usually feel worse after a truth-telling session with them.
But to be quite honest, as a friend pointed out this weekend, maybe they weren't ready for the truth then and maybe they are now. It's been a while since I've shared deep truths with my parents or other family members. I'm afraid.
The eating disorder is my biggest fear but I also fear sharing the truths of my feelings about divorce and shame and depression and anxiety. I fear the truth because if they react in an unsupportive manner, I can almost guarantee our relationship would be ruined forever---and I'm torn because it's becoming more ruined anyway. The distance is hard and the more I distance myself, the more my mom pressures me and when I feel pressure, my brain sends this, "Abort! Abort!" signal off.
I am staring at the train and I'm still deciding what choice comes next. Will I keep standing here or will I jump out of the way at the last second?
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