I just saw this from yesterdays fresh batch on Postsecret. I don't know how to email a response to the site. I want to tell her that she must ask. That although we are taught to tell our parents about our problems and fears, there is no guarantee that they will prove worthy of our trust or confession. That does not mean our problems and fears are not real. that they no not have genuine, tangible, destructive and bloody outcomes. That does not mean that nobody will ever believe you. It means you have to summon your courage again one day, and never give up hope of release into the ears and heart of someone with the emotional and practical tools to guide you to relief.
posted by dodo @ 1:00 pm
8 Comments:
I saw that yesterday as well and felt for the person who sent it. I know my mum will always be there for me and I hope my children feel the same about me.
I totally feel for that person-
I've kind of been there too but I kept on believing that help was out there.
Parents don't always want to believe something could be wrong with their babies.
that's one of the saddest things I've ever seen. I hope she does get some help.
Wow, can I relate to that!
post secret always makes me want to share, so i IM our office junior, which has led to many great debates.
people are sometimes afraid of helping because life has taught them they don't have the answers. i still say we have to give it a try.
I saw that one too. And it broke my heart.
I grew up with parents who routinely screamed at me to "shut up". So I did. And when it came to problems, the last thing I did was ever talk to them. And I wished at the time, I could have.
Now with my son, I don't say things like that, even though he's a motormouth. Because I'm scared that someday he'll shut up too.
Once when I was in the sixth grade I told my mother that I thought I didn't have any friends. Instead of helping me to see that I did have friends OR to ask me what caused me to feel in such a way, she just started crying. I was frustrated and then I felt guilty because now all of the focus was on her and her feelings. It changed the way I felt I could lay myself bare.
That poor poster... she and I could very well have the same mother... when I was 19 and going through a personal crisis of epic proportions, my parents took me to see a therapist... well, I came down the stairs in sweats and a college tee and my mother said, "Oh, go and put on that blue Calvin Klein... I've told Amanda (the shrink) how pretty you are..."
Rock On with the priorities, Mom!
She is much better now, but the late 80s were not her glory years.
ps - will you re-email me, I need to resend some of the blog invites.
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