How To Get Out Of A Funk

The inspiring events of this week have, for many of us, renewed our hope and shifted the focus off our own troubles. There are positive signs that this new administration is determined to work for us all. Calls for unity have been tempered by demands for accountability. As many have said, only with meaningful acknowledgment of harm done, is unity possible.

A microcosm of that concept has been a long time in coming with my own family of origin. The result of my appeal for accountability has resulted in my mother choosing to end our relationship. I hate to bring down the mood from such a positive few days, so stop reading if you want to linger in the afterglow!

For weeks, I’ve been battling a deep sadness over my mom, trying hard not to let it take over. Brene Brown describes how family members typically become estranged around lifecycle events and we are certainly typical in that regard. A sibling and I disagreed about our mother’s care after a car accident a couple of months ago. Brown says that heightened emotions around such events lead to harsh words that cause some family members to cut ties. I was on the receiving end of a blast of vitriol from a sibling after she heard mom’s complaints about me and others. I called my mom to ask that she speak to each of us directly so as not to drive a wedge between her children. Mom denied having said anything, asserting I’d always unfairly blamed her. Then she signed off permanently, have a good life.

Mom & Me 1970, San Francisco

Our relationship hasn’t been especially close since she left our family in 1982 when my folks divorced, so not having her in my life anymore isn’t quite what you might think. The hardest part about this is losing the possibility that it will ever be any different between us. Subconsciously, I had held out the hope that one day we would have the kind of mother-daughter bond I have longed for in my friends’ relationships with their moms. That my mother would one day prioritize my hurt feelings over the need to justify her own behavior.

But I’m not here to fight a one way battle with my mother. What’s done is done. I’m here to figure out how to be okay despite not having a mom anymore, or even the fantasy of one, and to feel good about myself in spite of that. My inner work is to reject the idea that I deserved it, that I caused her inability to love me unconditionally because I am inherently unlovable. Just the thought of that brings me to tears. She views me as someone who fits a narrative she made up in her head, it has nothing to do with who I am. I’m not entirely sure who she thinks I am, I can only pick up bits and pieces by what she has said. That I had it easy because of how I looked as a kid, because I did well in school and figured out how to have a happy life with no real problems. In reality, the challenges I faced when she left me to fend for myself were so consequential that I wrote a book about it. She hasn’t asked to read it. She has felt free to judge me but she doesn’t know me. And now she doesn’t know her grandchildren. She’s the one missing out on both accounts she writes, trying hard to trust the truth of it. Every time I have tried to tell her who I am, a cold wind blows on her end of the phone. She is not listening and never will.

So. How do I move on from such a heavy blow and get back to myself? After a couple months of trying to fill that motherless pit inside me with holiday treats, I decided to get back into my physical body instead of numbing it, to reclaim myself from the heartache that had seeped in and tried to take up permanent residence. It is the one way I can be present to my life and the beautiful people who choose to be in it.

1. I MOVED. I physically worked the pain out in as many ways as I could until I felt it breaking up and making its way out. I ran until I gasped for air, I rode hard on my bike until tears flowed down my face. I danced naked in a -225 degree nitrogen chamber at cryotherapy to Bastille’s Pompeii. I twisted my body in yoga to wring out the toxins and opened my heart with the faith that despite what my mother says, that I belong here, that I am loved, that I am enough just as I am.

2.  A BREAK. I gave myself a pass on handling this perfectly. I don’t need to do everything right anymore so my mom thinks I’m a superstar and will finally love me how I always wanted. That thinking got me nowhere. I have fallen backwards into the bleakness of all this and have had to begin again. I accept that this is difficult for me. The mother bond is a hard one to do without. Part of the work is extracting myself from her idea of me. That I am so fundamentally flawed that she can’t bare to have me in her life, not even the thinnest thread of connection, which is all it has ever been. I am not the person she rejected. My true self bears no resemblance to what my mother thinks of me. If I had a chalkboard, I would write that 100 times. I am okay—no. I am better without her.

3. NATURE. Honestly, this seems to be the answer to every hard question I have. Don’t know how to handle something? Put your bare feet on the earth, look up at the sky and get quiet. This one was easy because we left town last week for the mountains. Instead of bare feet, I put on skis and looked up at the breathtaking vastness. My problems are so small when they are measured against the majesty of the Rocky Mountains. Nature renews my spirit every time.

4. LOVE. I feel resistance around sending her love but I do it anyway. In the mornings, when I have cleaned my energy, I envision pink light traveling from my heart to hers. Not all the time, but when she pops into my head and announces herself, I do it. A dear therapist friend reminded me to take care of the little girl inside, who didn’t get enough of her mother’s love, by avoiding confrontations of the sort I had with my mom that only caused re-injury. She also suggested I imagine what the little girl inside my mother must have felt to cause her to shut off from people the way she has. Accessing empathy for my mom may be the key to letting go of my pain. I had her in my everyday life so briefly, I don’t really know much other than that as the eldest of seven, her parents were extremely critical of her, punishing her severely for minor infractions. She left home to boarding school at thirteen. Later in life she had a very close relationship with her own mother before she died a few years back. Maybe there is hope for us, but I am realistic about that.

Also, I can relate to my mother’s inability to treat her kids with love because of her own deficits. In my worst parenting moments, the feeling of being unloved and taken for granted has brought out my inner Mommie Dearest. My kids could tell you their own stories of being unloaded on for minor infractions too. I have to be accountable and acknowledge the pain I caused them as well—it’s excruciating but necessary to preserve and improve our relationships.

It hurts to be without a mother to call with important questions or great news but as I have known for the vast majority of my life, all I have ever needed has existed inside of me the whole time. I will never abandon myself and that I can be sure of.

This process may take a while, but the pain is less now. I will get better the more I move, love and get out in nature. When I am kind to myself, I am left with the clarity and lightness that it’s all going to be ok.

Love,

Elizabeth

WRITING PROMPT: How do to get yourself out of a funk? Does it always work? Why or why not?

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