Sunday, June 14, 2009

A Dark Post

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 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.


FreeDragon said...

I know we don't actually know each other, but if there is anything I can do to help, let me know.

charli-tan said...

I feel your pain... hang in there, there is nothing worse than reliving your childhood as an adult!
I hope ur mom is feeling better soon! I hope YOU are feeling better soon, too!

Bubblewench said...

I am really glad Husband was there to hear you. That's very important.

L. said...

Hello, I wanted to let you know that I really like your blog. I've been reading "backwards" - from the part where you were considering changing the blog to user only (if you think someone in your town finds it), and to this part ...
I'm sorry that you are experiencing this. I too had a mother like this - and she finally got a grip on her mental illness when she was undergoing a physical illness. You could say she was forced to face her demons because she couldn't move without a wheelchair. The heart heals after awhile, I promise. And all those dark child hood memories somehow make the present seem more precious. Remember that sensitive, creative Artsy/writer type people seem to feel deeply and with such a wider palette of emotions than the norm. So the "hurt" is felt intensely, but also the joys of life are experienced so fully and passionately. Hope everything evens out soon, and if you ever have to go underground, I'd be interested in user access if that's OK with you. Your writing reminds me of Wide Lawns, it is very refreshing.