Sometimes the ole brain is so muddled...
I am frustrated with my inability to make sense of all the happenings to me, around me, and because of me. I am distraught over my drinking too much, saying too much, fearing too much - and my favorite, my penchant for being a reactionary instead of a preventor.
I did, however, finally get to speak with E's parents and our lawyer today. I came away from it trembling and nauseous but only because I was so worked up before the phone conference even began. They are still the wonderful people I selected to raise my daughter 16 years ago, and I hear the tremendous amount of love they hold for her in their manner of oration. I appreciate that so much. They are resigned to the fact that what is done is done in regards to her choice of contacting me, and the future is what must be managed to the best of our abilities. They are committed to letting E be herself, and to make those choices that she feels she must make in regards to maintaining a relationship with me and her birthfather. Additionally, we agreed that our future relationship will be with all three of them, and that I will not be a safe harbour or a confidant when it comes to E making dangerous choices (should she choose to share that information with me). A united front is what we will present...I love that. That is what I would want from any adult my 13 year old should befriend. This must be as stunning and earth shattering to them as it is to us. And yet, their demeanor with me was open, friendly, loving - just as I remember from being a child myself...
E is three years younger than I was when I got pregnant and chose her family for her.
Um...I don't know why I think these things. And is this thought terrifying or ironic?
The muddled, addled brain. Making me crazy, I swear.