You are invited to.
It really does take at least two people to argue. Or, in our family, more like six. Not too long ago, I had an argument with one of my adult children. It doesn't happen very often. I love them so much, and I think that most of the time, I am willing to forgo the argument for the relationship. But every once in awhile, my world is rocked by something that is said.
Interestingly enough, for all the times that my children have seen and been around depression, they don't handle it well when it is me that is depressed. Somehow it is easy to get caught up in the "how could you say that" and the "how could you even think that". They have been through a lot in their lives and I realize that they don't want to see their mother struggle inside a black place. However, I really felt at the time that I had heard enough. It was hurtful to me. Not because I misunderstood, but because it threw me back into the chaos of the past.
Sometimes I think that the past will never let me escape it's dark clutches. I feel like I have to keep paying the price for sins that were not my own. It is bad enough when you make mistakes as a parent, but when someone else makes them for you, well, let's just say that you never quite get over the guilt and anguish for not fixing it.
My one strong ability is to love those around me, no matter what they have done. I genuinely care for each one of my children, no matter their age or their choices. That does not mean that it doesn't hurt. That does not mean that I don't feel. It does mean, that I need to be loving enough not to attend the argument. Something for me to work on next time.