packing.

i promised myself that anything in this house that made me unhappy would not be brought to the new house. but there are things here that i am finding that make me think of my mother. i have photos, letters, scarves she knit for me... an entire file folder containing all the paperwork i collected over the years detailing her jail time, her weird letters, her painful self-narratives...

just how much am i willing to purge? and why do i keep holding on to these things?

in the back of my head, all the letters, the records, the photos, are things that i could someday show to her social worker, or therapist. i am saving them for future use.

but i've sworn there is no future.

so why am i keeping them?

the logical answer, i suppose, is that i still hope for her to get better. to allow me to help her. and in all honesty, it seems i still want that. otherwise, all this shit would be in the garbage.

finally, some forward motion.

i'm moving south in 3 weeks. let me say it again, just so it sinks in...

I'M. MOVING. SOUTH.

the decision's been made, the lease has been signed, and i'll be about 30 minutes away from my brother in just a few short weeks. oh happy happy happy!

for those of you that have been reading this blog for a while, you know that this is a huge deal for me. for those that are just getting to know me, well... this is the beginning of change. of action. of finally admitting what it is that i want in my own life, with my mother and her illness the last thing i'm worried about. it feels like freedom and liberation. it feels like all the trauma of losing my mother to her illness is starting to ease up, and i can finally stop the self-punishment and isolation that have given me the ability to survive it.

it also means that i had to say goodbye to my support group here. there's only 6 of us in the group, so leaving means that a piece of the family is going away. i tried to explain to them how important they were to me, how grateful i was that there was a group of people in my real life that i could be completely honest with, and who could witness my emotional growth and healing over the past two years. i know that what came out of my mouth was inadequate to say all of that. i wish every one of us - every child of a mentally ill parent - has the chance to be a part of a group like that. the self-acceptance and healing power of a group of individuals that grew up the same way, with the same kind of fears and struggles and storylines, is immeasurable. my secret wish is, and will always be, to start a national organization for us children of the mentally ill. but i think i would settle for starting a group like the one i've been a part of in my new community.

moving is always such a stress. but this time, i'm purging. i refuse to bring everything i own down to atlanta, to start over with all the same baggage. anything in this apartment that makes me unhappy, that causes me stress, is going away. it's not coming with me. the only things i want to bring are the things that make me myself. that define me. that bring joy and peace.

i can't wait. oh, i can't wait. bring on the change!!!!! i'm positively starved for it.

heard from her.

The day after I wrote the last entry, I received 2 letters at my address. One had been forward from a previous apartment I had. And they had the same printed letter inside:

"i have been trying to reconnect with you. i hope i have reached you at this address. you know i care a great deal about my daughter, and i welcome you to visit with open arms. why have you stayed away so long? we always had a trusting affectionate relationship! i did not know which address, so i am sending this letter to all of them. please write, phone or email me before i visit so i know you are okay. [contact info edited out.] the trip to visit me is only 6 hours away. let's meet this winter! i'll be praying for you. love, mommy."

what is sad is that no, i don't want to contact her. i don't want to write, or call. i don't want to visit her, or see her. but in the same breath, i will say it was good to see her send something so i know she is alive. how do i balance out these feelings? it worries me to see her say things like "before i visit..." it gets my anxiety up immediately. but reading between the lines, it sounds like she is too tired or too poor to make the trip. phew. how will this end when i am 16 hours further from her than i am now?

what is the end point for all of this?

a new year, indeed.

hello, my friends out there in the void. i've been terrible about writing lately, and i'm so sorry. i am still very much here, and very much committed to this blog and the folks reading far and wide.

the truth is... well, the last two months have been poignant. not because my mother was in them, or because everything has fixed itself. but because i have made decisions. and not just make them. take action on them.

in december, i celebrated my 29th birthday. for the very first time in years, i spent it exactly how i wanted. compartmentalized all my friends into the events i wanted them to be a part of. didn't even blink an eye when two of my supposed best friends weren't even there. it didn't bother me. i felt something in me letting go of all that concern. somehow, i had decided that this was my last birthday in new york. and i told them all that. whether they wanted to be a part of it or not was their own issue. i spent the weekend with the people that i wanted, and did exactly what i wanted without the burden i often put on myself of trying to make it easy on everyone else.

new years was the same thing. told the two people i cared about to come over and we'd make dinner and watch the ball drop while watching movies. and that was that. quiet. simple. not the stupid annoying house party in the city that most people would have gone to. just what i wanted. what i needed.

i knew in my heart that this was my last new years here. and 3 days later, i sent an email off to the vp of my company, asking about transferring near my brother down south. word came back that i can leave whenever i want, and i've set the date for two months from now. somehow, i'm still amazed i had it in me. i had a small panic attack last week as i called to ask for a moving date in april. suddenly freaked out that i was leaving all my friends, most of my family, and the life i've been living for five years.

but now, now i feel excited. free. giant weight off my shoulders. like now that the action has been taken, i can take a deep breath and just start planning my life out a little more than it has been planned out in the past. a shiny new start to my life as a belated birthday gift. no more treading water, or waiting for something to happen.

no longer waiting for my life to bloom like irises.

the only thing i hate is this dread. dread that my mother will show up and fuck it up. dread that i'll never forgive her. dread that she'll follow me there. dread that i'll never see her again. i'm worried about her. she deleted her blog so i can't check in on her that way. and i haven't heard a peep from her in a month. it's almost... too quiet. sick, isn't it? i don't want anything to do with her, and i still can't help wonder if she's ok. wonder if she's sick and homeless, or hospitalized? or imprisoned? but i want to keep moving forward. not look back. not keep myself shackled to this life. the workaholic life that kept me breathing, dealing with the trauma of losing her like that. i have spent five long years paying penance for something i didn't do. i don't want to punish myself anymore. i don't want to refuse myself foward-motion, just because i'm afraid of where she is.

this is going to be more than just a new year. it's going to be a new approach to my life, and my acceptance of the grief and the loss. it's going to be a new chapter in moving on with my life, and without her in it.

coming out of it

I've been thinking a lot lately. I used to fear becoming my mother. I used to worry that admitting I had cycles of depression meant that I was in danger of becoming her... but watching my own life for the past 3 weeks, and all the positivity that has been in it, I think it's something else.

I think I have post traumatic stress disorder. I think I've been suffering under it for 6 years. Why else would I now feel so in control? So happy and joyous and hopeful? This is the place where I used to wonder if it was a manic phase. If it was the other half of the shoe that kept cycling up and down with the depression. But this feels different this time. As if I've forgiven something and moved on, and reclaiming the little pieces of myself that have been missing for so long.

Maybe I don't need some kind of label on the last few years. I should just enjoy this, and keep working on it. But there is a feeling of freedom in my heart that I can't remember having in a very, very long time. I love this feeling more than I could ever describe in words.

joyous.

i am so sorry for the long hiatus. my imac has finally been returned to me with a new hard drive, thanks to the crew at apple. i was going through withdrawal! there's been so much i wanted to write about. the past few weeks have been so eventful, wonderful, but concerning all at the same time... 

2011 continues to be my year for personal growth. every week that has gone by gets better than the last... and not because my mother is in the hospital, or on medication. but because i feel like i'm healing more and more. this could all be in my head. but i don't think so. i have noticed small changes in my daily routine that were never there before. my eating habits are the simplest example. once upon a time, i ate out for almost every meal. fast food and take out were my standbys, my usuals... home cooked meals were few and far between, and most of the time, something i could microwave. slowly but surely, i've been making my own breakfast. this is HUGE for me. i wish i could convey the feeling i get in the morning now - like i have purpose, drive, and CONTROL over what i'm eating. no shame. no wishing i could take back my last choice of food, because of the inevitable stomachache or wave of nausea over consuming something that is killing me slowly.

VICTORY. that's what it feels like. victory over lack of control.

i've been celebrating by posting pictures of my dinner creations for friends and family on facebook. it makes me feel strong.

i also took a week off, and went with my closest friend to california for a week. there were too many amazing experiences to list. but the ease of living, and that wonderful feeling of the absence of anxiety have inspired me so much. i want to keep that feeling every day of my life.

the best part of this vacation, if you can call it a positive thing, is that i completely forgot my mother's 60th birthday. i mean, wow. i have dreaded every birthday and every mother's day for 6 years now. i have made it through them in the past with alcohol, or waves of guilt that i couldn't shake. but this year? this huge birthday year for my mother? i didn't even remember until my father reminded me days later. miracle. complete and utter miracle. 

this strength of character is starting to remind me of who i used to be. perhaps that's why i'm considering a career change, as well as the big move down south... maybe i'm feeling like i don't have to hide away from my life by working all the time. maybe this is the beginning of starting my life... at the tender age of almost-29. it also occurred to me that i am now less than 2 years away from the age when my mother had me... and how far i am from experiencing that same joy. i want a future. i want a happy future. i want to have my own family, my own children...

wow. it feels good to send that out into the void. i feel... joyous. full of hope. full of bravery. (for once.)

Compliments are hard to hear.

This work thing is throwing me off more than anything. I was given a compliment by someone today that really meant something. I respect the hell out of this person, and she said something that almost made me cry.

When did the approval of others come to mean more than my own opinion? It seems that lately, all I ever do is require others to validate me. Make me feel more together. Put me back together. My self confidence and anxiety is bordering on crippling. It makes me needy, constantly seeking attention from others just to feel ok... What an annoyance I feel like sometimes. Like I'm abusing my friendships. Like I'm tooting my own horn all the time, just to get someone to say "awesome job," or "you're the best."

I don't know when it really started. But I do now that without this validation - this current need for positive affirmation - I spiral uncontrollably into a litany of self-hatred and loathing. Anxiety. Failure. And then I self-destruct.

So when this woman said this amazing compliment - unprovoked, unhinted for - it caught me completely off guard, and completely uncomfortable. Embarrassed even. Like I wanted to shout back, "no, please don't say that. It's not true." But I want it to be true.

Am I alone in this?

I wish that I hadn't been programmed so early to be a ridiculous overachiever. It would have helped, I think.