Feeling so blue tonight. It’s been on my mind to try to write my daughter a letter.Â
I feel like my skin and bones make me look like I’m coping… Look at me standing and doing stuff just like everybody else… But every so often the crust comes a bit loose and the tears roll out.
December 27, 2022. The last time we spoke/saw her. December, 18, 2022, the last time she emailed me. Said she was sorry she hadn’t answered my emails. But that was it.Â
I hate the word estranged. If you want to puke, be a normal parent, trying to do your best, and then go to tiktok and watch a Jeffrey Marsh video on how to estrange your parents, and how if you feel bad when you do, that’s a sign of how manipulative your parents are.  If your parents are kind, that’s just an act they put on, to make it harder for you.
I tried to talk to a coworker about it today, and she said I can’t send a letter to my daughter. She’s not wrong, but… it was just such flat advice. Like, no big deal. Sometimes you have to send your kid to bed without supper. Not the Momma Trauma of not knowing *anything* about how your kid has been doing for nearly two years. Fearing for health and well being.
I have to admit it makes me feel angry towards any Mom who has a young adult kid that pays any attention to them. It’s just so friggin unfair.Â
How can you make yourself ignore the loss?
My mind searches for someone, anyone who could just check in and give me an update. I don’t want to interfere. I just want her to be ok.
I hope she’s ok.
I’m not ok.