Our tears all taste of salt.

[katster]

Grief is a common bond. Neither riches nor poverty, religion nor origin are sufficient to make our experiences significantly different. In dreadful personal loss, we find we share a simple humanity. Our tears all taste of salt.
        --Peter de Jager, www.truthpicks.com

It's a thought that comes from alt.callahans tonight, and I'm thinking of it for one simple reason. My mom has dysthymia. A constant lowlevel depression. Basically, it's the "all depression all the time" channel. She's probably had it for years.

So I'm coming to the terms that my messed up in the headness comes not from emotional abuse, or at least, not on purpose, and I think abuse is done on purpose, and not accidentally. It was neither her nor my fault, it's just an accident of fucked up brain chemistry. My parents want the best for me, but they're human, and so they're falliable.

And this makes me taste the salt on my cheeks, and the tears fall like rain. I don't know why this makes me grieve, but it does.

And that's all I have to say about this right now.

Comments

[lirazel.livejournal.com]

It's a sad but wonderful day when you forgive your parents for being your parents.

I know, that sounds strange. Your parents gave you life, and helped form your character. Most of us have many, many things to thank them for.

But they also screw up royally. (See the two years of preballet, the six years in beginning ballet, and the two years of modern dance and what they did to the self-esteem of one Lirazel...) And there's also things they can't help. My mom's parents used to beat her with a strap. I'm blessed that she only yelled at us. And I'm so thankful that we had all forgiven each other before they died.

Another thing I realized a few years ago is that my mom was only 22 when she had me. In essence, we grew up together. She had all these theories, and Dr. Spock, and I was this small but impenetrable rock of reality that perpetually broke the theories into smithereens. She must have found me infuriating. But I am so glad that she allowed me to see how she changed over time, how her standards shifted from theory to reality.

Thanks for making me think about this. I needed to remember what's real today.

Lauren

A very wise man I knew...

[murphymom.livejournal.com]

...once said of this very subject, "We are victims of victims of victims." I can see it so clearly when I recall stories of my parents' childhoods, and even stories of my great-grandmother's childhood. And I grieve for who I could have been if not for my parents' mistakes; then I grieve for what they could have been, and so on. Some of us don't even have brain chemistry as a partial explanation. As parents, most of us do the best we can for our children - and hope one day they'll be able to forgive us that our best is so short of what should be. Bless you for seeing this.

[smcwhort.livejournal.com]

You grieve what could have been. If you can't be angry about it anymore, because your mother's blameless, there's nothing left to do but mourn for the both of you. When you're done crying, you'll have more energy to focus on being better, I think.