Defining moments in life

It must have been 1998 or 1999, my bossy, over bearing sister loomed menacingly over me. I was unmarried, and lived with my parents. She was married and had come down for a visit. We were sitting together with my Mum and Dad.

"Well you don't have a choice!" she shrieked. "Either you get married, or get out of my parents house as you are causing too much stress to them."

I was used to my sister and her ways in my growing up years, but she had crossed a line that day. I adored my parents, I worked hard and never intentionally caused them bother. I wasn't married because I had no one to marry. I knew it was a source of tension for my mother who constantly sought out suitors for me, but she had never told me to get out of her house. I would have married someone had I liked them remotely, but I wasn't going to marry just anyone.

As I  heard my sister's voice attack me, I suddenly blazed back at her. I told her she was married and in her own home, but I was at my parents place and it shouldn't bother her too much.

She continued her corrosive attack and said, it bothered her because I was causing stress to HER parents (who as it happens are my parents too). That was it, I turned to my Mum and Dad, and asked if I was a problem for them.

SILENCE

I was shocked. I asked again if they would let her speak to me this way

SILENCE.

I felt my life slipping away as I weakly said that their silence at that point meant my sister was right. They could just say a word or two that it wasn't like that.

SILENCE.

Raised in a house full of extraordinary events I never blamed my parents for things others would have easily held them accountable for. I genuinely didn't. That day, their silence shifted life as never before. I felt the panic of a helpless person. It's amazing how life gets re-written and redefined in a moment. Who you are changes. Your life choices change.

I confided in my best friend as I always did. My life, my insecurities, and now this - how my home was no longer my home. It was the biggest mistake I made. When the best friend went on to become The Husband, he knew my Achilles' heels - all of them. Here again Life could go two ways. The person who knows your weak spots could either become your shield for life, or use their knowledge of these weak spots to control you.

The Husband was a remarkable best friend, but he couldn't handle the power he wielded when he became The Husband. A loss. For him and me.

I had trial by fire most of my early life. As with most metals thrust into this fire, I could have disintegrated if I wasn't pure, or be fashioned into the strongest weapon by that fire. I was the latter. I can proudly say I was...probably still am. Just need a polish and a reminder.

Kingdom of Isolation, and it looks like I'm the Queen

Where did those words from "Frozen" pop into my head from?

As it stands today, I am alone. I still got The Husband and Tara around here somewhere, but Im now alone. Im trying to be positive, to pull myself together and make a plan, or find a purpose. Most important I'm trying to stop my record breaking, self destructive crying spell of five months now, as it has caused my sinuses to be inflamed and making me feel very unwell.

September 2018 was the culmination of Tara's dream-to go to the top grammar school in the area. I remember being excited, pulling out out the stops, re-educating myself so I could teach her everything so she could achieve what she wanted. I will say that again, what SHE wanted. Given my own background of having to fight for my education, I wanted to make sure nothing would come in the way of my daughter's education if that was what SHE wanted. And she did.

She passed her entrance exam, and came second. A few points away from the first spot and not happy about it. I praised her for she had achieved; she sulked over what she had missed. Personality probably. Come September a new, highly academic grammar school and a huge, very steep learning curve, for all of us. It's been me and only me so far in Tara's academic life. The Husband was not in the picture so far. He went to work every morning, got a wage at the end of the month and if I made plans for Tara on the weekends he would drive us. That's about it. Not very pro-active.

Expectations and the huge work load from school hit us like a ton of bricks. I had heard from other mums that the first term in secondary school was a huge transition for children in primary school. It's true. I sat down and explained to Tara that if she got her act together in these crucial months, it would be easier after that. I was frantically trying to get Tara to organise herself. I printed new time tables, which I made late at night, flowers and hearts interspersed amongst the few available time slots between school and bedtime. I cleared shelves and drawers, making separate sections for different subjects, explained to Tara that getting into Grammar school was the start of a journey, not the end of it etc. etc.

There were two other factors that overlapped with this chaotic beginning.

1. Tara was 11, and increasingly moody and sulky.

2. I had entered Stage 1 of Adhesive Capsulitis, commonly known as Frozen shoulder. More about that later, but suffice to say the pain and helplessness of this condition is right up there among the most painful conditions known to humans.

Where earlier I was rushing around between school, various clubs, house work, cooking etc. I was now doing all that, along with the challenges of a recalcitrant 11 year old who was refusing to learn to shampoo her own hair or pack her school bag or show me her work to sign off her school planner. While driving was excruciatingly painful, trying to shampoo Tara's hair made me want to pass out with the sheer white hot (that's the best colour I can associate with this pain) agony of just moving my arm.

There had to be a breaking point, and mine came when I reached out to The Husband for support. I started calmly but ended up raging like a lunatic at the sheer lack of support or co-operation from either Him or Tara. I complained that I was in enormous pain, that I was struggling, that I needed Tara to step up and take more responsibility, that I can't be signing her school planner if she hasn't brought her work to show me as her Form tutor expected her to do. After all of that The Husband , who had never raised one finger in raising Tara, gave a huge sigh, and signed Tara's planner and walked away, saying he couldn't stand all these arguments, and how he felt stuck between the two of us.

It is a blur how it happened, but after a massive blow up with The Husband, and an even bigger explosion when he brought my 11 year old to witness our heated exchange- something snapped. He showed my precious Tara what a crazy person her Mum was. I saw her eyes widen as she shrunk away from me. He turned to the weeping child, and said, "Look, Im sorry I took your side over your mother"and with drooping shoulders, walked away, our little girl running after him.

I was shocked. I went after him and said if that was the best he could do, maybe he should do everything for Tara now. He said fine. Just like that I was no longer Tara's Mum. I think I was fired from being Tara's Mum in a way I still can't get my head around.

November 27th 2018 was the last time my child hugged me, or we kissed good night. I died that day.

The Husband took over everything. I backed off more out of shock than anything else.

Bedtime for Tara has slowly shifted to 10:30 pm sometimes 11 pm. I remember I used to be very particular about children needing good, regular sleep to function well. I remember running around trying to wind up the evening, school bag packed for the next day, showers and teeth brushing completed by 8:30, then saying our thank yous to God and cuddling and chatting about what happened in school that day, handing over worries and concerns to Mum, then hugs and kisses and tuck in for bedtime. Every day for the last 11 years.

Now both of them say their goodnights together, and sometimes in passing I hear Tara saying the thank you prayer I had created when my baby was an infant.

He tugged at her long hair and brought tears to her eyes when he first started attempting to do her hair. He stopped doing that shortly after and she now goes uncombed or brushed.

Gaps in the day or weekends where we used to paint, do arts and crafts or go walking are replaced by The Husband's first love-The iPad

Any other gap in the day or night is filled by voracious reading-a habit I introduced to Tara, but now being done on an epic, unhealthy and uncontrolled scale.

Clothes are mismatched, shoes are too tight, her skin is dry

I must be a bad mother. I thought I was the best Mum for my Tara, but if I was, wouldn't she have come after me? The Husband played his part in separating a Mum and her little heartbeat, but how could my heartbeat leave me?

I did try at the start. But The Husband had now taken it upon himself to erase every bit of my existence in Tara's life, but only where convenient for him. He still lets me drive her to school and do the pick up because he has to work, he lets me cook the meals, because he doesn't want to or know how to. Every gap in Tara's life that was my place, was replaced by the iPad, books or television. My Tara is a zombie, a bedraggled one at that.

On my birthday he brought in a few presents to my room, which I said I didn't want and he should leave. As I said it, Tara slipped out from behind him, her face falling. At some level I think I was being played. Another part of me had broken. The old me was a fiery Mum. I loved with a passion, and was full of hugs and kisses, but also bellowed to get order and routine in place. Now I stopped saying anything. I retreated into my room. No one came after me. I cry every night. I stopped talking to God.

A few days later I told The Husband that I had given up work to raise Tara, and if that purpose was gone, I need to find a new purpose, maybe go back to work. He said I should - it would be "good for me".

There was no Christmas, no one came to me on Mother's day. For all of Tara's primary school life, I attended every show, every parent's evening, every performance, every sport's day, every swimming race where she came last, beaming and cheering at my child's proud face. This school year I've had no invitation for anything. No handmade gifts, Nothing. I'm always in my room when they are both in the house. The Husband and I just text each other if we have to, mainly related to household matters, Amazon parcel, electricity reading, school pick up etc. Tara speaks a couple of words to me a day  "Can I have dinner now?" "Could you get me cereal?"

As I write this, two thoughts are uppermost in my mind:

I must have been the world's worst Mum whose only child never came after her...even a little bit.

or

I hope Karma is a bigger game player than The Husband

I am now in Stage two of this life changing Frozen Shoulder experience. I don't speak anymore. Ive survived my early life - not lived it. I wanted different for Tara. When I had her, I spent the next 11 years protecting and raising her to hopefully be a strong, loving and independent woman. I now have no purpose. I am a one handed driver, cleaner, cook and overall Plan B to everyone.

All I want is find purpose and direction. I am aware that no one reads this blog. But if someone does chance upon it, please leave me some strength, some prayers and some loving energy.