TASK 1
One of the saddest moments in my life happened almost a year ago now. An intervention had occurred, forcing a ravine between me and my abusive ex boyfriend. During all of the police visits, and phone calls, and meetings, one of those stuck in my head as a painful experience. My mother had to be in the room with me while I talked to a woman from student life and a therapist. As they asked me questions, and I answered them, I could see my mother become more and more surprised, or sad, or disappointed, or all of the above. “I didn’t know that happened,” she would say. “You know you can talk to me.”
As the details of her daughter’s pain and abuse were disclosed, I became more and more ashamed. I never wanted to put my mom through anything like that again. Causing her to feel helpless and confused. My words throwing knives at her.
Reading that honestly just brought back the feeling of sadness I had felt that day. I feel a little bit of maybe a trauma response, a little shaky and embarrassed. It’s hard to confess to that and take responsibility for my mother’s sadness, and in a way my own.