battling bitterness in “my life”
I returned home this Labor Day weekend to engage in some community service and work with The Magnolia Project MS. I was equally optimistic and nervous, anxiety ruminating in the background as I had the kind of unfinished business that only a girl who moved away from her small town to a big city could have. The type of unfinished business that becomes the talk of the town for weeks upon weeks. The type of unfinished business that keeps therapists employed. I had finally made the decision to open the Pandora’s box.
After the death of a relative, I sat with the ideas of big G Grief (loss of life), little g grief (loss of what was and what was desired), legacy, and family. It compelled me to take a look at the nonexistent relationship between me and my biological father. Through a series of circumstances, a relationship does not exist between us. As far as anyone knows, I do not exist as his daughter. A secret of epic proportions, a failure of responsibility and accountability on his part, I’ve navigated the world with this knowledge and the feelings associated with it away; however, a desire for relief led me to seek closure. When I wasn’t satisfied with the response (or the inadequacy), I went back to stuffing my feelings and this situation into the box, wiping my hands of it.
Seeing my biological father raise children that were not his biologically (twice!) in such a visible way left me feeling bitter. Walking past him as a stranger would and not causing a scene out of pain and disbelief took a strength that is always expected from me. And, I have been so weighed down and choked up on the bitters of a maturity that has never been reciprocated. No amount of accomplishments and achievements can remove the disappointment of neglect and disregard. No amount of therapy has decreased my resentment (thus far!). I had been ashamed of my childlike yearning for recognition and acceptance from a father to many but never to me. I rarely spoke of it and by opening that door, I have experienced a litany of feelings that I’ve always been aware impacted how I maneuver through this life cycle. Through therapy and introspection, I am growing in removing shame and distaste for these emotions.
I sat with bitterness and anger and grief for so long, we’ve developed a Thelma and Louise type of bond. I constantly rehearsed and listened to the symphony of Shaes over the years, each one bellowing with a different tune of anguish and contempt for themselves. I contemplated a good crashing out, a projection and production of 25 years of disregard. I contemplated how I could give this hurt away to someone else? For I felt the pain knotted itself into a sweater that had been overworn. I became delirious through the overwhelming sea of discomfort, paralyzed by uncertainty and anxiety. I had no idea how to deal with this grief
I was praying that I would get a sign of clarity of how I should proceed. Then, “My Life” by Mary J Blige (sampling my favorite song “Everybody Loves The Sunshine” by Roy Ayers Ubiquity) played in my ear. And, I begin writing.
