Love and Conflict

I am not in a good place today. Tears are so close to the edge and they have fallen three times already. It is only two in the afternoon.

I was writing my 500 words this morning and was exploring why my eldest daughter has been so triggering for me lately. She has been close to being a bit snotty with her remarks to me. And then my youngest refused to move so I could sit down twice in the last 24 hours. She just looked at me while I looked at her. It was rude.

I know I am hyper-reacting. I feel this, I know this. I’m still doing it though. I do not want to react this way. It feels as if all my patience, my normal amusement at their antics is just gone. Exit stage left. I feel every incident like it is a slice to my heart, an insult to me, disrespect. I hate it. I resent it.

At the same time I love these girls intensely, wholly, totally, bringing me to a state of conflict in my own mind and heart. I love them and they are hurting me. Sounds like my childhood.

I never learned conflict resolution. How to talk to one you love, how to tell them things they don’t want to hear. Listen to things I don’t want to know. I can confront up to a point, and only if I can get my anger and rage riled up. Only then do I have the courage to speak my truth.

If I can’t muster the courage, then I flee, stomping up all three of the stairs to my bedroom, slamming the door, which means closing the curtain in my house, since I don’t have a door. I flop myself onto the bed, stare at the ceiling and feel like an idiot because my teenage daughter or worse – my 9 year old – has acted better than I just did.

I feel like such a child at times like these. Luckily, they don’t happen very often. They really just started happening recently, when my girl started rattling my chain. Is this a normal mother – daughter thing to do?

I know I rattled my mom’s chain, once to the point where she slapped me hard, full in the face. Of course, I had just called her a bitch, so perhaps I deserved it. Although I can’t even imagine slapping one of my kids, no matter what they say to me.

I’m not sure what is going on. My best friend suggested that this would be a good opportunity to talk to my girl, tell her about my childhood. I laughed at the suggestion, like that is possible? Talk to my kids? Be vulnerable in front of them? How scary is that! I do want over this wall that my daughter is building between us. So perhaps it is worth the risk.

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