Emotional Recovery

After I came home from the yoga retreat I was feeling pretty poorly. Emotionally, I felt raw from the trip and I didn’t really understand why. There wasn’t anything overt that happened, other than a tense moment when my sister was running late and taking it out on me. Still, I came home feeling like a lame loser. I know my sister does not want to be like our mom, but in some ways she acts similarly. I kept mulling over in my brain why I felt judged by her. I couldn’t tell if it was just me being sensitive or if there was really a cause. I still don’t know if I have an answer. I know I was hurt that my sister left me on the hike and didn’t seem to care that I was not feeling well. Maybe it was that disappointment that made me feel like she was embarrassed to call me her sister. Maybe it is my own disgust with myself for not being the fit yoga instructor, high-power, world-traveler like her. In comparison, my life is rather dull. Only, it isn’t. I have a lot of excitement caring for my children and our crazy little circus of animals. And, I would never want a job that I can’t walk away from for a weekend to enjoy myself. I know my sister has a doom and gloom vision for the family farm. She professed having zero attachment to our childhood home, which made me feel so sad. I love taking my kids to the farm and would hate to not have that option anymore. My sister thinks my parents should dump the farm, she sees it as worthless. I have hopes to help save the farm, to make it a working farm again. We were the fourth generation on my dad’s side to have lived on the farm. My grandmother moved there in the depression when she was three years old. My dad grew up there. We grew up there. This is all worthless to my sister. The farm grounds me, I always feel a sense of peace when I am there. I like my home, but I long for the country with space and not concrete around me. Financially, I can do nothing for the farm. My sister says she refuses and if our parents need help, it will have to be on her terms. I wish I had more time to dedicate to the farm. I would love for my kids to grow up running through the creek, up and down the hills of the farm. I thought it was an idyllic childhood.

 

I have recovered emotionally, from the retreat. I will see my sister again on the Fourth of July for a family picnic. I’m hoping with other people there to act as a buffer, the same defeated feelings won’t return. I know we have made different choices for our lives, but no path is lesser or greater than the other. My sister does not want children and I respect her decision. I hope she never feels like I judge her for making that choice. I wanted to be a mother enough to do it on my own. I feel like my choice is judged and my mothering is found wanting. And that is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to evaluating my life choices. I find it much harder to not care about what my family thinks. Personally, I like my life. It can get crazy, but it is full. I love my children and I am grateful I have the immense pleasure of raising them, trauma warts and all. I guess, more than anything, I would like to feel understood and that just doesn’t seem possible. I know, when we were growing up, my sister looked up to me. She slept with me for more years of our childhood than not. She told me all her secrets, shared all her hopes and joys with me. She was a sensitive child and much of the time she felt like I was the only one who understood her. I don’t know when I switched from cool older sister to pathetic reject that is unfortunately a family member. I’m probably over-reacting. I hope.