My youngest daughter graduated from high school. This is my last summer with both of them home, and this transition will be hard. Over coffee with a friend yesterday, I shared that I need to be proactive about processing this along the way rather than doing what I usually do: power through and then get hit with a wall of depression that takes me months to work through.
So, I will write. I will write about the highs and lows of this transition. I will hope that this helps. I will hope that this heals.
I got home from high school graduation on a warm evening. The house was hot and stuffy. It was my youngest daughter’s graduation. I came home, focused on the tasks at hand in front of me. Filled out the co-sign form for my older daughter’s first rental, finished up my projects from the day that got delayed because I was too scattered and distracted to work.
And then I sat there. Alone. In my apartment. By myself. There was no one to celebrate with, no one to talk to, no one to share the milestone moment. No one to look over to, hold hands and say, “Well, we did it”. No one to look through the pictures together of 18 years of parenting, reflect on the highs and the lows, celebrate the woman our daughter has become.
So, instead I drank too much wine and fell asleep watching a show that I didn’t care about. This is how I capped off this day. Depressed disassociation.
I woke up the next morning and started work. I led a meeting on a project where emotions run high and it’s my job to create calm stability. I brilliantly helped them navigate their way through hard conversations and tense topics. Then I took a shower, washed the dishes from the night before. I made hard boiled eggs in the night and fell asleep before I could put them away, so the room temperature eggs were thrown in the trash.
The next meeting was with my coworkers, excited to congratulate me on my daughter’s graduation. They asked how it was and I started to share how proud I was and then just began to cry. I tried to quickly change the subject, but I was already sitting in the awkward embarrassment of my vulnerability with the team trying to comfort me.
And the frustrating part is that there are so many good things, there is so much to celebrate. But instead, all I could feel was the emptiness. All I could replay were the parts that hurt and my fears.
So things to celebrate:
- My daughter graduated from high school, she got awards for academics and service hours. She is excited about her future and got into a great college. She has such promise and she is fiercely independent.
- My very bestest friend went to graduation with me and took me out to a wonderful dinner afterwards.
- I was able to find my older daughter despite the giant crowd and get sweet hugs from her before the ceremony.
- I found my daughter after the ceremony and she was happy to see me and let us take photos and celebrate for a moment with her.
- Despite being crabby, she came by during the day before graduation and hung out at my house.
- My amazing boyfriend texted me halfway through the ceremony just to tell me that he thinks I’m gorgeous.
- Despite my severe anxiety about an encounter, I didn’t run into my ex-husband and his bitchy sister.
Things I focused on instead:
- My family didn’t come. My mom went to the graduation of my stepsister’s daughter despite the fact that my stepfather is dead and my mom is no longer technically related to these people. But she didn’t come to my daughter’s graduation.
- I couldn’t stick out the marriage. I left her dad and my daughter hates me, and as soon as she leaves for college, she will never speak to me again (this is the fear story in my head).
- I don’t have a companion to share this with. Yes, I have a boyfriend, but it’s not the same. He didn’t raise this child with me. Milestones like this can be incredibly lonely.
- The girls both went to and from graduation with their dad and not me. He threw the graduation party and I wasn’t invited. I was left out of most of the activities related to graduation. My daughter isn’t really speaking to me.
That’s the tension. I want to choose to focus on the good, my brain can’t seem to focus on anything but the shit.