I have finished my school reports and had the last day with my school kids. Now I have one week to close up the classroom and then I am finished. I will be free.
We had our last Sunday service at out current church. It was anti-climatic to say the least. People had already grieved and I think they were ready for it all to be over, too. I'm not saying this in a bad way, just honest. I know they will miss us, but they said their goodbyes a while ago.
My mom is heavily medicated and waiting to get her first shot Tuesday. She hasn't wanted me to come out so I have called every day just to make sure she is managing and that my dad is okay. I explained to E that Grandma was in a lot of pain and it made it very hard for her to be with people, even those she loved, because she was so tired. And I explained to E that I was sad for my mom, that it was hard to see her in pain and it makes me cry. She was okay with that and cried a little bit, too, but just sympathy tears I think.
Hubby came home and was able to tip my world more towards normal. I was able to finally verbalize why this was all so upsetting to me. It wasn't just the conversation with my mom from Friday, but the memories that all came rushing back. The memories of being 3 and finding my mom systematically throwing every piece of her wedding china at my dad's head. Of wandering around my house as a small child to find myself completely alone because my dad was at work and my mom had left for an hour or so. The fear I felt when my mom would disappear into her darkened room for days on end. The day she lost control because I came home 5 minutes late from school. It was the realization of why my father's assistants were under strict orders to ALWAYS let my call through no matter who he was meeting with or where he was.
A few years after my brother died, my mom had a nervous breakdown. It was the best thing that ever happened to her. Her GP of 20 years told her if she wanted to continue to be his patient, she would have to take prozac. She agreed and several months later told me for the first time in her life she didn't feel anxious and scared all the time. We were all so thankful she was finally on the road to feeling better. I never understood until then how I had been holding my breath.
For you see, this is what I have learned about my life...you can't tell me something is not going to happen or it is a million to one possibility, because that's not how my life works. You can't tell me I don't have to worry about school violence, because I have experienced it. You can't tell me my mom won't commit suicide because my brother did. You can't tell me random violence isn't all around because I found a dead body. I am a weirdness magnet and my life works just a little differently. And I feel like I am holding my breath again. Assuming the role of parent-in-waiting again. And I accept that. She's my mom and I love her. She did the best she could raising me and I think I am a better mom because of the lessons I learned from her and with her. But I am scared...and feeling a lot like that lost little girl. Depression causes the victim to abandon their loved ones and I remember that sensation all too well.
But like I said...being able to say that to Hubby took some of its power away. And being able to put it here helps, too. Because even if my mom can't be my mom right now, I am not alone this time. So I thank you for allowing me to share this here. I had to get it out before I could move on to more normal topics, so this is the last time I will post about it unless something drastic happens. But once again, thanks for listening.