I cried when I realized that I had lost my childhood while trying to play the adult to my mother, the dysfunctional child. In my naive way I had thought that my sacrifice would somehow save her.
I cried when I married and found out that the fantasy family I had always dreamed of could never be.
I cried when my only child was born with a developmental disability, even though I had hoped and prayed that my child would be able to have a better life than I had had.
I cried when my mother died, not because I would miss her, but because of all the words I wanted to say, all the things I wanted to get off my chest that she would never hear.
I cried when my marriage finally collapsed. My chance at finding true happiness in my lifetime was lost.
And now I cry, the tears streaming down my cheeks, because in the mirror I see the bitter, unhappy person I've become. I cry because I know I'm acting dysfunctionally more and more, because I know I'm relying on compulsive behavior more and more just to get me through the day. I cry because I feel myself becoming the person my mother was, a person I always hated and despised. I also cry because for the first time in my life I see that I must learn to stop denying my hurt and pain. I must acknowledge my right to feel anger and despair, to accept my terrible losses as they are, and to finally ``let go'' of the misery and pain that they bring to my life. I welcome the changes that this ``letting go'' will bring. I know that if I cannot do this, the next loss I will cry for will be my own.
