The Death of a Soul

River Dance last night was phenomenal. We had the absolute best seats in the house, and it was very relaxing. I found myself starting to cry a couple of times because I was remembering the first time we went to it about ten years ago, when the girls were 10 and 7. This time, we were all going to go again, but it was not meant to be since TP is gone from the family. Thus, the tears, because I recalled a simpler and more loving time.

What I'm going through stinks. No mother should have to go through this kind of pain when a daughter intentionally hurts you and doesn't seem to have a care about it. The selfishness and reckless narcissism leave me breathless, and wondering what happened to the girl whom I raised to be kind and compassionate to all, and whose hugs would take your breath away.

I have decided I have had enough of the tears. I can no longer function this way. I will be kind, but that is all I can muster right now. The intense love for her is still there, but it's a painful love not a joyful one. It's a love that hurts and aches and cries out to be brought alive again between the two of us.

She's in danger of losing it all - health insurance (and that would leave her without insurance coverage for the lupus for the rest of her life), her once very honorable reputation which had taken a lifetime to build, her economic stability, her self respect, her college education, and her relationships with people she holds dear. She is close to severing her relationship with God, which is the hardest thing for me to observe.

How does one person switch so quickly - how does one go from one extreme to the other? She is in with a questionable crowd of people - smokers, drinkers, drugs, bad credit, no ambition or drive to do much to better themselves - and before too long, I am afraid they will rub off on her. I'm already beginning to see signs of it. So, where does the dream of becoming a nurse go when you get caught up in all of these other influences, and you give up the security of your home and your family and your reputation and God?

All I can do is pray. Experience is a cruel teacher - and she will learn some very difficult lessons from all of these choices. My husband says it's time to let go. . .
I know that in my head. But my heart has a hard time accepting that the young woman I am now letting go of is the same little girl I raised and nurtured and loved for these past 20 years. Normally, when you "let go" of your daughter, it's always with sadness, but usually there is pride and anticipation and joy for her new life. I'm not "letting go" with any of those kinds of feelings. I'm "letting go" with fear for her well-being (physically, psychologically, and spiritually), with an ache that she has turned her back on us so dramatically, and with grief like she has died. She hasn't died physcially, thank God, but the death she is experiencing now is one of her soul, for she cares not about what she is doing or how it's affecting others. But you know, I would welcome here back home in a heartbeat - she is always welcome here.

I may take a break from blogging. I used to take such pride in what I would write here. But I am very ashamed about what has happened. I need to focus my time in on my other daughter, who has gone through so much over these past 4 or 5 years, but I neglected her due to all that was going on with TP. As a result, DQ has suffered immensely, and I need to repair that relationship and build her up. I also need to focus on my other professional writing assignments. So, I do have some things for which to look forward. I do have my very deep faith in God. My husband and I have grown closer as a result of this crisis - he has been my rock (thank you, babe).

What I'll do is just write a line here and there to keep you posted, but I won't journal my thoughts and feelings here for awhile - I have started my own personal journal here at home to help me put things in perspective. Thank you for your friendship. Thank you for your love. Thank you for your prayers.

Love, Val