I have a chance at a new life, but worry about my children
The dilemma Last year my brother died of alcoholism. My husband, our two primary school-age children and I are living with my parents. I am the main breadwinner. I have tried to support my parents through their grief, as well as financially supporting them. I feel the more I do, the more they expect of me; they are never satisfied with my efforts. It has made old childhood wounds of being unheard, unseen, unvalued and the pressure to be a good girl return to the surface. They also blame me for a lot of what happened to my brother and say things like: “We helped you more than him and you are ungrateful.”
My husband has gone from being a kind, caring man to an angry one. He tells me that he never loved me. I am about to move to the other side of the world, with my children for my job, and my husband pulled out at the last minute. I am dealing with bereavement, divorce, a new country, a new job and a new language all at the same time.
I fear the impact all this is having on my children. They are my priority, yet I
find myself losing patience and shouting at them. My relationship with my parents has descended into toxicity, and my marriage is over. Yet I still try to rebuild both daily. What would you do? Philippa’s answerI
would find your whole situation so overwhelming that I would attempt to get some distance from it. Try this: Imagine you can fly like a bird and you are looking down on you and your family. Observe yourself down there. You work hard and give your money to your family, you look after your parents, your husband and your children. Are you appreciated? Or are you treated like a faulty cog in that family machine? To me you seem like the cog that keeps everything going. What is that cog doing at the moment? She seems to be trying even harder to get it right for people who will never be satisfied.
The whole family are hurting. The brother-son-uncle is dead, and this is shocking, sad, tragic and a heavy weight for everyone to carry. It is normal when we feel bad to look around for someone to blame. Everyone seems to be blaming the main cog – you. Sometimes the children forget their uncle and play, and their shrieks and cries and childish concerns may feel discordant to you and bring you to breaking point. Maybe this is when you snap and shout. You don’t want to, you don’t justify it to yourself, which is good; you want to prioritise your children, but this isn’t happening. Something must change.
Your solution seems to be to take a promotion at work that will send you across the world to a strange land with a different language. You will uproot the