It was inevitable really. Once you start to back away from your child’s care, you get left behind really quickly. I didn’t want to end up here. Partly, it was because I was so ill and partly because that nagging voice that tells me “perhaps I am the problem” never really went away. After L made her choice at the meeting with the awful smirking nurse, as I left the room, I saw her face. A mixture of horror and shame at me shouting at them, tinged with disgust. I still see it now. And the voice “perhaps it’s you” just got louder and louder. I stupidly thought that if I backed away, she might miss me. But she didn’t.
Now, our house is the hardest place for her to eat and has been ruled out of bounds following her formal review which took place today. I wasn’t invited and wasn’t there, having said her father should take this role. I would have been there in a shot if she’d asked, actually, if anyone had asked. I awkwardly tried to tell her that I wanted to be involved if she wanted me to and she smiled and said she knew. But nothing else.
And so the review went ahead without me. I asked for an update which was solely that my house was out of bounds for meals and snacks, so L and I could rebuild our relationship. In the hour or so between snacks or meal on alternate Fridays presumably. Even a divorced parent would get more time. I text L and after a few texts end up apologising for texting her. She replies with a cheery Love you, don’t worry, but any suggestion I go and see her, is sidestepped.
Because I need to get well, you see. But the problem is, my heart is breaking into pieces at this final loss of my daughter. I cry till my face is sore and I can’t breathe and then I cry some more. I so, so want to believe that this is for the best, and she will get well one day because then I think living without her might be worth it. For now though, it just hurts so very much. But I have no one to blame but myself. I should have been stronger and I should have been better. She needed me and I let her down.