Inside my head

So my little dog is at the SPCA.  She is still with us!  Or, she will be home - tomorrow I hope!  I posted a lost notice and two people responded to me.  I love animal lovers.  I am so grateful to people who watch things like this - and match ads.  I have to figure out how to rescue her tomorrow. 

I had a long talk with one of my offspring today.  We talked about the pain that comes from being raised in an alcoholic family.  My child said that the choices they made were not my responsibility.  I cried and explained how they, my tiny little being, my precious child, was a major miracle of my life, how perfect a baby and child they were, and I damaged that with my violence, my anger, my screaming.  We both acknowledged that I was simply responding from my childhood, just as our parents responded from what wounded and damaged them.  My child asked what to do.  I responded that I can only share what I did.  Their path will be different, but I hope there is the courage to walk forward when way opens.

We talked about lashing out at the people you love and trust.  I had my standard, "Well, Maggie and I have been discussing this..."  My child recognized their own behavior.  It's definitely a family pattern.

This is so difficult.  I want to really talk about the depths of emotion and the openness that happened, but I also want to tell my own story only.  In my story, I hope my child felt the rush of emotion, the depth of apology, the canyons of love I feel for them, for each of them.

I read the retelling of the Little Match Girl last night.  This was the first story in Women Who Run With Wolves where I sat straight up and truly recognized myself.  I live in my head.  I know I do.  I have so many fantasies about what my life could be like, but I keep living the same life.  I often think I am the female version of Walter Mitty.  And I know I have been part of one more wasted generation who had so much potential to change the world.  But, don't worry, I haven't given up. Perhaps the crone-Clare will change the world, with the help of her beloved sister Maggie - or vice versa.  I don't mind being the side-kick!

I don't know what to do with this - this inability to live a real, authentic life.  It is remarkable to see my story opened for my perusal, although I never liked the fairy tale about the match girl.  After reading the analysis, I am beginning to understand, sort of.  But I don't know what to do!

My child and I each recognized the fear of success in our personalities today.  Why is it so much safer to live in my head?  Why am I afraid of being seen?  Why is it so comfortable being in my head?  When I was out west, maybe because I was in a different world, I began imagining possibilities.  Will I be brave enough to step forward?

I will keep reading tonight and see if I find more...

From her secure hiding place somewhere deep inside her head, this is Clare signing out with love!!