TAGGED
TRASTORNO DE ANSIEDAD GENERALIZADO (TAG) GENERALISED ANXIETY DISORDER (GAD)
I have been Tagged. And to discard this Tag, I will have to let go of my obsession/vexation/fixation/control.
(Being tagged is a family thing here — two out of three.)
We are invited, my daughter and I, to a party given by a mutual friend. There are going to be a lot of other people, which I did not know of, as I had the impression it was going to be more of a private affair instead of a social gathering.
We arrive quite early, and I see crowds of people already seated with their drinks in front of them having a good time. Loads of kiddies in the swimming pool or chasing each other around the tables in the restaurant. They are on holiday. We are not, we live here.
I feel my daughter´s resentment; she tries hard not to show it but sadly fails in my eyes.
Not in hers, but I do know her basics. It pains me to see my daughter feeling obliged to fake her good times with me. It is not always like that, only in my Tag moments.
A child whose unwanted responsibility growing up consisted of looking after her alcoholic mum. Forever scared, invariably on the look-out. Always ready to protect me with her child-loyalty.
To embrace me with her silent foreboding and dread, again and again in case this would stop me going out and do more harm to me and thus unfailingly to her.
So I see through her when she “offers” to spend time with me — charity time. I do not deserve it. Because, she as well, is an adult now and needs to make up for lost freedom.
Childhood freedom.
But the mum is damaged still. She wants to re-wind. Re-do. Re-cuperate time with her child, now that one label has gone, but unfortunately, so has the child. And time has run its course, and you only ever get one chance at that.
Your daughter also has done her job and wants free, a LIFE.
Oh, yes, she does love you. Still unconditional but adult unconditional. On her terms now. You are not so much a necessity in her life anymore.
Fearless, she rises above you and leaves you behind in a cloud of self-doubt and quiet despair, and you admire and curse her for this cruel abandonment. You need to set up a whole new set of boundaries, but even that comes too late.
But oh yes, you love her. Unconditional and wholehearted. Unlimited. Absolute. Complete and Unrestricted.
But you are Tagged.
I still try. Try to hush that hunger to make it up make it up make it up to her.
She is made up. I made amends, and she granted me forgiveness. For I freed myself of one label; I understood I am a forever alcoholic but a recovering one. I also realised I am cross-labelled; changed one tag for another. Tired of being categorised while at the same time trying to think and solve outside of the box.
But there is a raw need to know. And although this tag is another lifelong label and an unnecessary inconvenience, you now have the power to embrace your tears and distress, this anguish eating you from the inside, and heal. And let your daughter do her healing. And her living.
You don´t have to cry her tears, laugh her laughs, protect her from hurt and unhappiness and disease. You only have to protect her from you!
And you?
Yes, me.
I will continue to own the mum-title and carry it proudly. I will have my moments, Tag moments. They are ugly, but I will survive, I will hold them and honour them as part of what makes me a warrior. My only lessons learned result from stepping straight through the pain and self-inflicted horror, aching the ache and repeat till I can detach enough to see the truth, and thus the light.
And my daughter?
She is beautiful. Soul-beautiful. And I am her mum.
